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FRANK  MERRIWELL 
AT  YALE 


BY 

BURT   L   STANDISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

Frank  Merriwell's  Schooldays,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Chums,"  "  Frank 
Merriwell's  Foes,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
DAVID    McKAY,    PUBLISHER, 

*>4-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE. 


Copyright,  1903 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale 


"He  finally  found  himself  slugged  under  the  ear  and  sent  flying  over  a 
chair."    See  page  13. 


S 


CONTENTS 


I — Trouble  Brewing  .        •        .      9 

II — Challenged  and  Hazed      ....         18 

III— The  Blow 30 

IV— The  Fight 39 

V— The  Finish 50 

VI— A  Fresh  Council 58 

VII— A  Surprise 68 

VIII— The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock        ...        83 

IX— The  Duel 96 

X— At  Morey's        .        .        .        .        .        .103 

XI— "Lambda  Chi!" 118 

XII — Freshman  Against  Sophomore          .        .       133 

XIII— Jubilant  Freshmen 147 

XIV— The  Rush 156 

XV— On  the  Ball  Field 168 

XVI— To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist     .        .        .179 
XVII— Talking  it  Over    ......  196 

XVIII— Merriwell  and  Rattleton    .        .        .        .      210 

XIX— Who  is  the  Traitor  ?    .  .  aao 


I  CONTENTS 

CBAPTBB  pAG* 

XX— A  Hot  Chase       .        .  .       .234 

XXI— Roast  Turkey        v 241 

XXII— A  Surprise  for  Frank    .        .        .        .      250 

XXIII— The  Yale  Spirit 257 

XXIV — Gordon  Expresses  Himself  .        .        .      266 
XXV— The  Traitor  Discovered  .        .        .        .273 

XXVI— The  Race 283 

XXVII— A  Change  of  Pitchers      .        .        .        .290 

XXVIII— The  Game  Grows  Hotter     ...      306 

XXIX— The  End  of  the  Game      .        .        .        .317 

XXX— Rattleton  is  Excited     ....      330 

XXXI— What  Ditson  Wanted     .        .        .        .343 

XXXII — Ditson  is  Trapped        ....      359 

XXXIII— "Play  Ball" 365 

XXXIV— A  Hot  Finish 374 


FRANK  MERRIWELL  AT  YALE 


CHAPTER  I. 

TROUBLE   BREWING. 

"Here's  to  good  old  Yale — drink  it  down ! 
Here's  to  good  old  Yale — drink  it  down ! 

Here's  to  good  old  Yale, 

She's  so  hearty  and  so  hale — 
Drink  it  down!    Drink  it  down!  down!  down!" 

From  the  open  window  of  his  rooms  on  York  Street 
Frank  Merriwell  heard  the  distant  chorus  of  a  rollick- 
ing band  of  students  who  had  been  having  a  mern 
evening  in  town. 

Frank  had  passed  his  examinations  successfully  and 
»iad  been  admitted  as  a  student  at  Yale.  In  order  to 
accomplish  this  without  taking  a  preparatory  course  at 
Phillips  Academy,  he  had  found  it  necessary  to  vigor- 
ously "brush  up"  the  knowledge  he  had  acquired  at  the 
Fardale  Military  Academy  which  was  a  college  pre- 
paratory school. 

Professor  Scotch,  Frank's  guardian,  had  been  of 
great  assistance  to  him,  for  the  professor  knew  just 


io  Trouble  Brewing. 

about  what  would  be  required  at  the  entrance  examina- 
tion, and  he  had  kept  the  boy  digging  away  at  the 
propositions  in  the  First  Book  of  Euclid,  had  drilled 
him  in  Caesar,  caused  him  to  spend  weary  hours  over 
Virgil  and  the  Iliad,  and  made  him  not  a  little  weary 
of  his  Xenophon. 

As  he  passed  without  a  condition,  although  he  had 
been  told  again  and  again  that  a  course  at  Phillips 
Academy  was  almost  an  absolute  necessity,  Frank  was 
decidedly  grateful  to  the  professor. 

Professor  Scotch's  anxiety  had  brought  him  to  New 
Haven,  where  he  remained  "till  the  agony  was  over," 
as  Frank  expressed  it.  The  little  man  bubbled  over 
with  delight  when  he  found  his  protege  had  gone 
through  without  a  struggle. 

Having  secured  the  rooms  on  York  Street,  the  pro- 
fessor saw  Frank  comfortably  settled,  and  then,  before 
taking  his  departure,  he  attempted  to  give  the  boy  some 
wholesome  advice. 

"Don't  try  to  put  on  many  frills  here  the  first  year," 
he  said.  "You  will  find  that  freshmen  do  not  cut 
much  of  a  figure  here.  It  doesn't  make  any  differ- 
ence what  you  have  done  or  what  you  have  been  else- 
where, you  will  have  to  establish  a  record  by  what  you 
do  and  what  you  become  here.  You'll  find  these  fel- 
lows here  won't  care  a  rap  if  you  have  discovered  the 
North  Pole  or  circumnavigated  the  globe  in— 


Trouble  Brewing.  II 

ten  days.  It  will  be  all  the  better  for  you  if  you  do  not 
let  them  know  you  are  rich  in  your  own  name  and  have 
traveled  in  South  America,  Africa,  Europe,  and  other 
countries.  They'd  think  you  were  bragging  or  lying 
if  you  mentioned  it,  and " 

"You  know  well  enough  that  I  am  not  given  to 
boasting  about  myself,  professor,  and  so  you  are  wast- 
ing your  breath,"  said  Frank,  rather  resentfully. 
,r.  "Hum !  ha !  Don't  fly  off  the  handle — keep  cool.  I 
know  you  have  sand,  and  you're  made  of  the  right  kind 
of  stuff;  but  you  are  the  greatest  hand  to  get  into 
scrapes  I  ever  saw,  and  a  little  advice  won't  do  you  any 
harm.  You  will  find  that  in  many  things  you  cannot 
do  just  as  you  would  like,  so  you  must " 

"I'll  get  into  the  game  all  right,  so  don't  worry. 
You  will  remember  that  I  did  fairly  well  at  Fardale, 
and  you  should  not  worry  about  me  while  I  am  here." 

"I  will  not.  You  did  well  at  Fardale — that's  right 
You  were  the  most  popular  boy  in  the  academy;  but 
you  will  find  Yale  is  far  different  from  Fardale." 

So  the  professor  took  his  departure,  and  Frank  was 
left  to  begin  life  at  college. 

His  roommate  was  a  rollicking,  headstrong,  thought- 
less young  fellow  from  Ohio.  Harry  Rattleton  was 
his  name,  and  it  seemed  to  fit  him  perfectly.  He  had 
a  way  of  speaking  rapidly  and  heedlessly  and  turning 
his  expressions  end  for  end. 


12  Trouble  Brewing. 

Frank  had  been  able  to  assist  Harry  at  examination. 
Harry  and  Frank  were  seated  close  to  each  other,  and 
when  it  was  all  over  and  the  two  boys  knew  they  had 
passed  all  right,  Harry  came  to  Frank,  held  out  his 
hand,  and  said : 

"I  believe  your  name  is  Merriwell.  Mine  is  Rattle- 
3on  and  I  am  from  Ohio.  Merriwell,  you  are  a  brick, 
and  I  am  much  obliged  to  you.  Let's  room  together. 
What  do  you  say  ?" 

"I  am  agreeable,"  smiled  Frank. 

That  was  the  way  Frank  found  his  roommate. 

Harry  was  interested  in  sports  and  athletics,  and 
he  confided  to  Frank  that  he  was  bound  to  make  a  try 
for  both  the  baseball  and  football  teams.  He  had 
brought  a  set  of  boxing  gloves,  foils,  and  a  number  of 
sporting  pictures.  The  foils  were  crossed  above  the 
mantel  and  the  pictures  were  hung  about  the  walls,  but 
he  insisted  on  putting  on  the  gloves  with  Frank  be- 
fore hanging  them  up  where  they  would  be  orna- 
mental. 

"I've  taken  twenty  lessons,  old  man,"  he  said,  "and 
I  want  to  point  you  a  few  shows — I  mean  show  you  a 
few  points.  We'll  practice  every  day,  and  I'll  bet  in 
less  than  ten  weeks  I'll  have  you  so  you'll  be  able  to 
hold  your  own  with  any  fellow  of  your  age  and  weight. 
Ever  had  the  gloves  on  ?" 

"A  few  times,"  answered  Frank,  with  a  quiet  smile. 


Trouble  Brewing.  1} 

"That's  all  the  better.  I  won't  have  to  show  you 
how  to  start  in.  Here,  here — that  hand  goes  on  the 
other  glove — I  mean  that  glove  goes  on  the  other  hand. 
That's  the  way.  Now  we're  off.  Left  forward  foot 
— er,  left  foot  forward.  Hold  your  guard  this  way. 
Now  hit  me  if  you  can." 

Almost  like  a  flash  of  lightning  Frank's  glove  shot 
out,  and  he  caused  the  glove  to  snap  on  Harry's  nose. 

"Whee  jiz — I  mean  jee  whiz!"  gasped  the  aston- 
ished boy  from  Ohio.  "You're  quick!  But  it  was 
an  accident ;  you  can't  do  it  again." 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  the  words  before  Frank 
feinted  and  then  shot  in  a  sharp  one  under  Harry's 
uplifted  guard. 

"Great  Scott!  You  do  know  some  tricks!  I'll  bet 
you  think  you  can  box!  Well,  I'll  have  to  drive  that 
head  out  of  your  notion — I  mean  that  notion  out  of 
your  head.  Look  out  for  me  now!  I'm  coming!" 

Then  Harry  Rattleton  sailed  into  Frank  and  met 
with  the  greatest  surprise  of  his  life,  for  he  found  he 
could  not  touch  Merriwell,  and  he  was  beaten  and  ham- 
mered and  battered  about  the  room  till  he  finally  felt 
himself  slugged  under  the  ear  and  sent  flying  over  a 
chair,  to  land  in  a  heap  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  He 
sat  up  and  held  his  gloved  hand  to  his  ear,  which  was 
ringing  with  a  hundred  clanging  bells,  while  he  stared 
astounded  at  his  roommate. 


14  Trouble  Brewing. 

"Wow !"  he  gurgled.  "What  have  I  been  up  against? 
Are  you  a  prize  fighter  in  disguise?" 

That  experience  was  enough  to  satisfy  him  that 
Frank  Merriwell  knew  a  great  deal  more  than  he  did 
about  boxing. 

As  Frank  sat  by  his  window  listening  to  the  singing, 
on  the  evening  that  this  story  opens,  he  was  wondering 
where  Harry  could  be,  for  his  roommate  had  been 
away  since  shortly  after  supper. 

Frank  knew  the  merry  singers  were  sophomores,  the 
malicious  and  unrelenting  foes  of  all  freshmen.  He 
would  have  given  not  a  little  had  he  been  able  to  join 
them  in  their  songs,  but  he  knew  that  was  not  to  be 
thought  of  for  a  moment. 

As  he  continued  to  listen,  a  clear  tenor  voice  struck 
into  that  most  beautiful  of  college  songs  when  heard 
from  a  distance: 

"When  the  matin  bell  is  ringing, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o, 
From  my  rushy  pallet  springing, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o, 

Fresh  as  the  morning  light  forth  I  sally, 
With  my  sickle  bright  thro'  the  valley, 
To  my  dear  one  gayly  singing, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o." 

Then  seven  or  eight  strong  musical  young  voices 
came  in  on  the  warbling  chorus,  and  the  boy  at  the  win- 
dow listened  enchanted  and  enraptured,  feeling  the 


Trouble  Brewing.  15 

subtle  charm  of  it  all  and  blessing  fortune  that  he  was 
a  youth  and  a  student  at  Yale. 

The  charm  of  the  new  life  he  had  entered  upon  was 
strong,  and  it  was  weaving  its  spell  about  him — the 
spell  which  makes  old  Yale  so  dear  to  all  who  are  fortu- 
nate enough  to  claim  her  as  their  alma  mater.  He  con- 
tinued to  listen,  eagerly  drinking  in  the  rest  of  the  song 
as  it  came  through  the  clear  evening  air : 


"When  the  day  is  closing  o'er  us, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o, 
And  the  landscape  fades  before  us, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o, 

When  our  merry  men  quit  their  mowing, 
And  along  the  glen  horns  are  blowing, 
Sweetly  then  we'll  raise  the  chorus, 

U-ra-li-o,  U-ra-li-o." 


The  warbling  song  died  out  in  the  distance,  there 
was  a  rush  of  feet  outside  the  door,  and  Harry,  breath- 
less and  excited,  came  bursting  into  the  room. 

"I  say,  old  man,"  he  cried,  "what  do  I  think?" 

"Really,  I  don't  know,"  laughed  Frank.  "What  do 
you  think?" 

"I — I  mean  wh-what  do  you  think?"  spluttered 
Harry. 

"Why,  I  think  a  great  many  things.  Whaf s  up, 
anyway?" 

"You  know  Diamond?" 


16  Trouble  Brewing. 

"The  fellow  they  call  Jack?" 

"Yes." 

"I  should  say  so !  It  was  his  bull  pup  that  chewed  a 
piece  out  of  the  leg  of  my  trousers.  I  kicked  the  dog 
downstairs,  and  Diamond  came  near  having  a  fit  over 
it.  He's  got  a  peppery  temper,  and  he  was  ready  to 
murder  me.  I  reckon  he  thought  I  should  have  taken 
off  my  trousers  and  given  them  to  the  dog  to  chew." 

"He's  a  Southerner — from  Virginia.  He's  a  dan- 
gerous chap,  Frank — just  as  lief  eat  as  fight — I  mean 
fight  as  eat.  He's  been  in  town  to-night,  drinking 
beer  with  the  boys,  and  he's  in  a  mighty  ugly  mood. 
He  says  you  insulted  him." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"It's  just  so,  and  he's  going  to  dallenge  you  to  a 
chewel — I  mean  challenge  you  to  a  duel." 

Frank  whistled  softly,  elevating  his  brows  a  bit. 

"What  sort  of  a  duel?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  a  regular  duel  with  deadly  weapons.  He's 
awfully  in  earnest,  Frank,  and  he  means  to  kill  you  if 
you  don't  apologize.  All  the  fellows  are  backing  him ; 
they  think  you  will  not  fight." 

"Is  that  so?  Looking  for  me  to  show  the  white 
feather,  are  they?  Well,  I  like  that!" 

"But  you  can't  fight  him!  I  tell  you  he's  a  fire 
eater!  I've  heard  that  his  father  killed  a  man  in  a 
duel." 


Trouble  Brewing.  17 

"And  that  makes  the  son  dangerous!  No,  Harry, 
I  can't  afford  to What's  all  that  racket?" 

The  sound  of  voices  and  of  many  feet  ascending  the 
stairs  could  be  heard.  Harry  turned  pale. 

"They're  coming,  Frank!"  he  exclaimed.  "It's  the 
whole  gang,  and  Diamond  is  with  them.  He  means 
to  force  you  to  fight  or  squeal !" 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHALLENGED   AND    HAZED. 

The  voices  were  hushed,  the  feet  halted  in  the  hall, 
and  then  there  was  a  sharp  knock  on  the  door. 

Before  Harry  could  reach  the  door  Frank  called  out : 

"Come  in." 

Open  flew  the  door,  and  there  stood  the  tall,  straight, 
dark-eyed  Southerner,  with  half  a  dozen  other  fel- 
lows behind  him. 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  Diamond,  stiffly,  "I  have 
called  to  see  you  on  a  very  important  matter,  sir." 

"Walk  right  in,"  invited  Frank,  rising  to  receive 
them.  "Bring  your  friends  in.  State  your  business, 
Mr.  Diamond." 

The  party  came  trooping  in,  and  Frank  was  not  a 
little  astonished  to  observe  among  them  Bruce  Brown- 
ing, a  big,  strong,  lazy  sophomore,  a  fellow  who  was 
known  to  be  a  great  hand  to  plan  deviltry  which  was 
usually  carried  into  execution  by  his  friends.  As  for 
Browning,  he  was  not  given  to  exerting  himself  when 
he  could  avoid  it. 

That  a  soph  should  associate  with  a  party  of  fresh- 
men seemed  but  a  little  short  of  marvelous,  and  Frank 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  19 

instantly  scented  "a  job."  Believing  he  had  been 
singled  out  for  the  party  to  "jolly,"  his  blood  was  up  in 
a  moment,  and  he  resolved  to  show  them  that  he  was 
not  "easy." 

Jack  Diamond  drew  himself  up,  his  eyes  fastened 
threateningly  on  Frank,  and  said : 

"Sir,  you  had  the  impudence  to  kick  my  dog,  and 
when  I  remonstrated  with  you,  you  insulted  me.  I 
demand  an  apology  before  these  gentlemen." 

Frank  held  himself  in  check;  he  appeared  as  cool  as 
an  iceberg. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "your  confounded  dog  spoiled  a  pair 
of  ten-dollar  trousers  for  me,  and  I  demand  another 
pair — or  satisfaction." 

Harry  Rattleton  caught  his  breath.  Was  Merri- 
well  crazy?  He  started  forward,  as  if  to  intervene, 
but  Diamond,  his  eyes  blazing,  motioned  him  back. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  said  the  Southerner,  addressing 
Frank,  "you  shall  have  all  the  satisfaction  you  desire. 
Mr.  Ditson  will  represent  me." 

Roland  Ditson  pressed  forward.  He  was  a  loud- 
voiced  youth  who  wore  loud  clothes  and  sported  a 
large  amount  of  jewelry. 

"Name  your  second,  Merriwell,"  he  said  in  an  au- 
thoritative way.  "We  want  to  settle  this  matter  as 
soon  as  possible." 


2o  Challenged  and  Hazed. 

Frank  named  Harry,  and  the  seconds  conferred  to- 
gether. 

Merriwell  sat  down  and  coolly  awaited  the  result, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Diamond  drew  aside, 
his  friends  gathering  about  him.  Bruce  Browning  in- 
terested  himself  in  what  was  passing  between  Rattleton 
and  Ditson,  and  it  was  plain  that  he  was  urging  them 
to  do  something. 

After  a  few  minutes  Harry  approached  Frank,  a 
troubled  look  on  his  face. 

"It's  an  outrage!"  he  indignantly  exclaimed.  "Dit- 
son insists  that  it  be  a  degular  ruel — I  mean  a  regular 
duel  with  rapiers.  He  says  you  gave  the  challenge, 
and  so  Diamond  has  the  right  to  name  the  weapons. 
Such  a  thing  can't  take  place!" 

"Oh,  yes,  it  can,"  said  Frank,  coolly.  "Accept  the 
proposition  and  have  the  affair  come  off  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"But,  Frank,  think  of  it !  I'll  bet  Diamond  is  an  ex- 
pert swordsman,  and  he's  just  the  kind  of  a  chap  to  lose 
his  head  and  run  you  through  the  body!  Why,  it 
would  be  dimply  serrible — I  mean  simply  terrible!" 

"I'll  have  to  fight  him  or  take  water.  Now,  Harry, 
old  man,  you  don't  want  me  to  show  the  white  feather, 
so  go  back  and  complete  the  arrangements." 

"But  there  ought  to  be  some  other  way  of  settling 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  21 

it.  If  you  could  fight  him  with  your  fists  I  know  you'd 
beat  him,  but  you  don't  stand  a  show  this  way." 

Frank  looked  his  roommate  squarely  in  the  eye. 

"Go  back  and  accept  every  proposition  Ditson 
makes,"  he  commanded,  and  Rattleton  felt  the  influ- 
ence of  Merriwell's  superior  will. 

Back  he  went,  and  it  did  not  take  the  seconds  long, 
with  Bruce  Browning's  aid,  to  settle  matters.  Brown- 
ing said  he  knew  a  nice  quiet  place  where  the  duel 
could  take  place  without  danger  of  interruption,  and 
in  a  short  time  the  entire  party  was  on  the  street,  fol- 
lowing the  lead  of  the  big  sophomore. 

Harry  was  at  Frank's  side  and  he  was  greatly  agi- 
tated. 

"If  you  are  counting  on  Diamond  backing  down 
you'll  be  dadly — I  mean  sadly  disappointed,"  he  whis- 
pered. "That  fellow  doesn't  know  what  it  is  to  be 
afraid,  and  he'll  stand  up  to  the  end." 

"Keep  cool,"  directed  Frank.  "He'll  find  there  are 
others." 

Harry  gave  up  in  despair. 

"This  is  a  terrible  affair!"  he  muttered  to  himself. 
"It's  likely  to  mean  arrest,  disgrace,  imprisonment  for 
the  whole  of  us,  if  those  blamed  hot-headed  fools  don't 
kill  each  other !" 

But  he  decided  to  stand  by  his  roommate,  no  mat- 
ter what  came. 


22  Challenged  and  Hazed. 

Browning  led  them  away  from  the  vicinity  of  the 
college  buildings  and  down  a  dark  street.  At  length 
they  came  to  an  old  brick  structure,  in  which  not  a 
light  was  to  be  seen.  Down  some  slippery  stone  steps 
they  went,  and  the  big  soph  let  them  in  by  unlocking 
a  door. 

It  was  dark  inside.  Browning  closed  and  locked 
the  door,  after  which  he  conducted  them  along  a  nar- 
row passage,  opened  another  door,  and  ushered  them 
into  a  room. 

The  smell  of  cigarette  smoke  was  strong  there,  and 
Frank  knew  the  place  had  been  lately  occupied  by 
smokers. 

A  match  spluttered,  and  then  a  lamp  was  lighted. 

"Get  ready  for  business,"  directed  Browning.  "I 
will  bring  the  rapiers  and  another  light." 

Then  he  vanished  beyond  a  door  that  opened  into 
another  dark  room. 

Frank  looked  around  and  saw  a  table,  upon  which 
were  cards  and  empty  beer  bottles.  There  were  chairs 
and  some  copies  of  illustrated  sporting  papers.  The 
walls  were  bare. 

It  was  warm  down  there,  and  Frank  immediately 
discarded  his  coat 

Diamond  was  about  to  follow  Merri well's  example, 
when  there  was  a  sudden  rush  of  feet  and  the  room 
filled  in  a  twinkling  with  masked  youths,  who  flung 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  23 

themselves  on  the  astonished  freshmen  and  made  all 
but  Frank  a  prisoner  in  a  moment. 

Frank  instantly  understood  that  they  had  been 
trapped,  and  he  knocked  down  four  of  his  assailants 
before  they  could  bear  him  to  the  floor  and  overpower 
him. 

His  hands  were  securely  bound,  and  then  he  was 
lifted  to  his  feet. 

"Well,  fellows,  that  was 'a  pretty  slick  trick,"  he 
half  laughed,  as  he  coolly  looked  around.  "You  sophs 
have  been  trying  to  corral  a  gang  of  us  for  a  week, 
and  with  the  aid  of  the  smooth  Mr.  Browning  you  suc- 
ceeded very  finely  this  time." 

"Silence!"  roared  a  deep  voice,  and  a  tall  fellow  in 
a  scarlet  Mephisto  rig  confronted  Frank.  "You  have 
intruded  upon  forbidden  ground.  None  but  the  chosen 
may  enter  here  and  escape  with  life." 

"Not  one !"  chorused  all  the  masks  in  deep  and  dis- 
mal unison. 

Mephisto  made  a  signal.  Once  more  the  freshmen 
were  seized. 

"Away  with  them !"  shouted  the  fellow  in  red. 

In  another  moment  all  but  Frank  had  been  hustled 
out  of  the  room.  Then  Frank  was  suddenly  held  fast 
and  blindfolded.  He  was  dragged  along  to  some  place 
where  the  opening  of  another  door  brought  to  his  ears 
the  sound  of  horns  and  shouts  of  fiendish  glee.  He 


24  Challenged  and  Hazed. 

was  made  to  mount  some  stairs  and  then  his  feet  were 
kicked  from  beneath  him,  and  he  shot  down  a  steep 
and  slippery  incline  into  the  very  midst  of  the  shout- 
ing demons.  He  dropped  through  space  and  landed — 
in  a  vat  of  ice-cold  water.  Then  he  was  dragged  out, 
thumped  on  the  head  with  stuffed  clubs,  deafened  by 
the  horns  that  bellowed  in  his  ears,  and  tossed  in  a 
blanket  till  his  head  bumped  against  the  ceiling.  Then 
he  was  forced  to  crawl  through  a  piano  box  that  was 
rilled  with  sawdust.  He  was  pushed  and  pulled  and 
hammered  and  thumped  till  he  was  sore  in  every  part 
of  his  body. 

All  through  this  ordeal  not  a  word  or  murmur  es- 
caped his  lips.  His  teeth  were  set,  and  he  felt  that  he 
had  rather  die  than  utter  a  sound  that  betrayed  pain 
or  agitation. 

This  seemed  to  infuriate  his  assailants.  They 
banged  him  about  till  he  could  scarcely  stand,  and  then, 
of  a  sudden,  there  was  a  great  hush,  while  a  terrible 
voice  croaked : 

"Bring  forth  the  guillotine!" 

There  was  a  bustle,  and  then  the.  bandage,  wti* 
stripped  from  Frank's  eyes,  he  was  tripped  up,  and  a 
second  later  found  himself  lying  helpless  with  his  neck 
in  the  socket  of  a  mock  guillotine.  Above  him  was 
suspended  a  huge  gleaming  knife  that  seemed  to  trem- 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  25 

ble,  as  if  about  to  fall.  At  his  side  was  a  fellow 
dressed  in  the  somber  garments  of  an  executioner. 

It  was  really  a  severe  strain  upon  his  nerves,  but 
still  his  teeth  were  clinched,  and  not  a  sound  came  from 
his  lips. 

"The  knife  is  broken,"  whispered  the  mock  execu- 
tioner in  Frank's  ear,  "so  it  may  accidentally  fall  and 
cut  you." 

"Have  you  any  last  message,  fresh?"  hoarsely  whis- 
pered the  mock  executioner.  "There  might  be  a  fatal 
accident." 

Frank  made  no  reply  save  to  wink  tauntingly  at  the 
fellow. 

The  next  instant,  with  a  nerve-breaking  swish,  the 
shining  blade  fell! 

A  piece  of  ice  was  drawn  across  Frank's  throat  and 
a  stream  of  warm  water  squirted  down  his  back. 

It  was  most  horribly  real  and  awful,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment it  seemed  that  the  knife  had  actually  done  the 
frightful  deed. 

Despite  his  wonderful  nerve,  Frank  gasped;  but  he 
quickly  saw  that  the  knife  had  swung  aside  and  his 
head  was  still  attached  to  his  body. 

Then  he  forced  a  derisive  laugh  from  his  lips,  and 
seemed  not  the  least  disturbed,  much  to  the  disgust  of 
the  assembly. 

"Confound  him!"  growled  a  voice,   which  Frank 


26  Challenged  and  Hazed. 

fancied  he  recognized  as  belonging  to  Browning. 
"There's  no  fun  in  him.  Let's  try  another." 

Then  Frank  was  lifted  to  his  feet  and  assisted  to 
don  his  coat. 

"If  you  want  to  stay  and  see  the  fun,  put  on  a  mask," 
directed  Mephisto.  "You  must  not  be  recognized  by 
the  other  freshies." 

He  was  given  a  mask  and  he  put  it  on  as  directed. 

A  moment  later  the  masked  youths  began  to  howl 
and  blow  horns.  A  door  opened,  and  Diamond,  blind- 
folded and  bound,  was  led  into  the  room. 

The  young  Virginian  stood  up  haughtily,  and  he 
was  seen  to  strain  and  struggle  in  an  effort  to  free  his 
hands. 

"I  protest  against  this  outrage!"  he  cried,  angrily. 
"I  want  you  to  know  that  my  father " 

The  horrfs  and  the  shouts  drowned  his  words.  He 
was  forced  to  mount  the  steps  to  a  high  platform,  and 
an  instant  later  he  found  himself  shooting  down  a 
slippery  incline  of  planed  and  greased  boards. 

The  racket  stopped  as  Diamond  scooted  down  the 
slippery  surface.  He  dropped  sprawling  into  the  vat 
of  icy  water.  Several  hands  caught  hold  of  him, 
yanked  him  up,  and  thrust  him  down  again. 

"Oh,  somebody  shall  suffer  for  this!"  gurgled  the 
helpless  freshman,  spluttering  water  from  his  mouth. 

He  was  dragged  out  of  the  vat,  and  then  he  was 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  27 

forced  to  endure  all  the  hustling,  and  thumping,  and 
banging  which  Frank  Merriwell  had  passed  through. 
His  protests  seemed  to  fall  on  deaf  ears. 

It  had  been  reported  that  Diamond  had  declared  that 
the  sophomores  would  not  dare  to  haze  him,  as  his 
father  would  make  it  hot  for  them  if  they  did.  The 
report  was  remembered,  and  he  was  used  more  se- 
verely than  Frank  had  been. 

Hazing  at  Yale  was  said  to  be  a  thing  of  the  past, 
but  Frank  saw  it  was  still  carried  on  secretly. 

"Make  a  speech,  fresh !"  shouted  a  voice. 

"Speech !  speech !"  yelled  the  masked  lads. 

Diamond  was  placed  on  a  low  table. 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated,  and  then  he  fancied  he 
saw  his  opportunity  to  make  a  protest  that  would  be 
heard. 

"I  will  make  a  speech,"  he  declared.  "I'll  tell  you 
young4  ruffians  what  I  think  of  you  and  what " 

Swish !  a  sponge  that  was  dripping  with  dirty  water 
struck  him  square  in  the  mouth.  Some  of  the  water 
went  down  his  throat,  and  he  choked  and  strangled. 

The  table  was  jerked  from  beneath  his  feet,  and  he 
fell  into  the  waiting  arms  of  the  masked  sophomores. 

"He  called  us  ruffians !     Give  it  to  him !" 

Then  the  unfortunate  freshman  was  used  worse  than 
ever.  He  was  tossed  in  a  blanket,  given  a  powerful 
shock  of  electricity,  deafened  by  the  horns,  pounded 


28  Challenged  and  Hazed. 

with  the  stuffed  clubs,  and  hustled  till  there  was  scarcely 
any  breath  left  in  his  body. 

Then  the  bandage  was  torn  from  Diamond's  eyes 
and  he  was  confronted  by  the  guillotine,  over  which 
fresh  red  ink  had  been  liberally  spattered.  The  blade 
of  the  huge  knife  was  dripping  in  a  gory  manner,  and 
it  really  looked  as  if  it  had  just  completed  a  deadly 
piece  of  work. 

Despite  himself,  the  young  Virginian  shivered  when 
his  eyes  rested  on  the  apparently  blood-stained  blade. 

"Be  careful !"  some  one  distinctly  whispered.  "We 
do  not  want  to  kill  more  than  one  freshman  in  a  night." 

Some  one  else  spoke  of  the  frightful  manner  in  which 
the  knife  had  cut  Merriwell,  and  then,  despite  his  feeble 
struggles,  Diamond  was  placed  upon  the  instrument  of 
torture. 

"The  other  fresh  died  game,"  muttered  the  execu- 
tioner. "Of  course  we  didn't  mean  to  kill  him,  but 
the  knife  is  out  of  order  and  it  slipped  by  accident. 
We  haven't  time  to  fix  it  properly,  but  there  are  only 
about  nine  chances  out  of  ten  that  it  will  fall  again." 

"Oh,  you  fellows  shall  pay  for  this !"  feebly  gasped 
Diamond. 

Despite  himself,  although  he  knew  how  unlikely  such 
a  thing  was,  he  could  not  help  wondering  if  a  terrible 
accident  had  really  happened.  If  not,  where  was  Mer- 


Challenged  and  Hazed.  29 

riwell.  He  looked  around,  but  saw  nothing  of  Frank, 
who  was  keeping  in  the  background. 

And  then,  when  his  nerves  had  been  quite  unstrung, 
the  knife  fell,  the  ice  and  warm  water  were  applied,  and 
Diamond  could  not  choke  back  the  cry  of  horror  thai! 
forced  itself  from  his  lips. 

A  roar  of  laughter  broke  from  the  masked  students. 

When  Diamond  was  lifted  to  his  feet  he  was  almost 
too  weak  to  stand.  He  clinched  his  teeth,  vowing 
over  and  over  to  himself  that  he  would  find  a  way  to 
square  accounts. 

"If  it  takes  me  a  year,  I'll  .find  out  who  the  leaders  in 
this  affair  are,  and  they  shall  suffer  for  it !"  he  thought. 

"Give  him  a  chance  to  see  the  others  put  through 
the  mill,"  said  Mephisto,  and  Diamond's  hands  were 
released. 

The  Virginian  looked  around,  seeming  irresolute  for 
a  moment.  Not  far  away  he  saw  a  masked  lad  whose 
clothes  were  wet  and  bedaubed  with  dirt  and  sawdust. 

In  an  instant  Diamond  sprang  toward  this  person 
and  snatched  the  mask  from  his  face. 

"It's  Merriwell !"  he  triumphantly  shouted,  "and  he 
has  helped  to  haze  me!  His  career  at  Yale  will  be 
suddenly  cut  short!" 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   BLOW. 

There  was  a  sudden  hush.  The  students  saw  that 
Diamond  was  really  revengeful,  and  his  words  seemed 
to  indicate  that  he  intended  to  report  any  one  whose 
identity  he  discovered. 

The  Virginian  was  pale  and  he  trembled  with  anger. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  will  blow,  do  you  ?" 
asked  one. 

"That's  exactly  what  I  do  mean,  sir!"  came  reso- 
lutely from  the  lips  of  the  infuriated  freshman.  "I 
am  a  gentleman  and  the  son  of  a  gentleman,  and  I'll 
never  stand  it  to  be  treated  like  a  cur.  Hazing  is  said 
to  be  no  longer  tolerated  here,  and  an  investigation  is 
certain  to  follow  my  report  of  this  affair." 

A  little  fellow  stepped  out. 

"You  claim  to  be  a  gentleman,"  he  said,  distinctly 
"but  you  will  prove  yourself  a  cad  if  you  peach." 

"I  had  rather  be  a  cad  than  a  ruffian,  sir !" 

"If  you  were  a  gentleman  you  would  take  your  medi- 
cine like  a  gentleman.  You'd  never  squeal." 

"You  fellows  are  the  ones  who  are  squealing  now, 


The  Blow.  31 

for  you  see  you  have  been  imposing  on  the  wrong 
man." 

"Man!"  shot  back  the  little  fellow,  contemptuously. 
"There's  not  much  man  about  a  chap  that  blows  when 
'ie  is  hazed  a  little." 

"A  little!  a  little!     Is  this  what  you  call  a  little?" 

"Oh,  this  isr  nothing.  Think  of  what  the  poor 
freshies  used  to  go  through  in  the  old  days  of  Delta 
Kappa  and  Signa  Epsilon.  Why,  sometimes  a  fellow 
would  be  roasted  so  his  skin  would  smell  like  burned 
steak  for  a  week." 

"That  was  when  he  was  burned  at  the  stake,"  said 
a  chap  in  the  background,  and  there  was  a  universal 
dismal  groan. 

"This  is  some  of  the  Delta  Kappa  machinery  here," 
the  little  fellow  explained.  "Sometimes  some  of  the 
fellows  come  here  to  have  a  cold  bot  and  hot  lob.  You 
freshies  walked  right  in  on  us  to-night,  and  we  gave 
you  a  pleasant  reception.  Now,  if  you  blow  I'll  guar- 
antee you'll  never  become  a  soph.  The  fellows  will  do 
you,  and  do  you  dirty,  before  your  first  year  is  up." 

"Such  threats  do  not  frighten  me,"  haughtily  flung 
back  the  lad  from  Virginia.  "I  know  this  was  a  put- 
up  job,  and  Bruce  Browning  was  in  it.  He  got  us  to 
come  here.  Frank  Merriwell  knew  something  about 
it,  or  he'd  never  been  so  ready  to  come.  And  I  know 
you,  too,  Tad  Homer." 


2  The  Blow. 

The  little  fellow  fell  back  a  step,  and  then,  with  a 
sudden  angry  impulse,  he  tore  off  his  mask,  showing  a 
flushed,  chubby,  boyish  face,  from  which  a  pair  of 
great  blue  eyes  flashed  at  Diamond. 

"Well,  I  am  Tad  Homer!"  he  cried,  "and  I'm  not 
ashamed  of  it!  If  you  want  to  throw  me  down,  go 
ahead.  It  will  be  a  low,  dirty  trick,  and  will  show  the 
kind  of  big  stuff  you  are!" 

The  masked  lads  were  surprised,  for  Tad  had  never 
exhibited  such  spirit  before.  He  had  always  seemed 
like  a  mild,  shy,  mother-boy  sort  of  chap.  He  had 
been  hazed  and  had  cried ;  but  he  wouldn't  beg  and  he 
never  squealed.  After  that  Browning  had  taken  him 
under  his  wing,  had  fought  his  battles,  and  had  stood 
by  him  through  the  freshman  year.  Anybody  who 
was  looking  for  trouble  could  find  it  by  imposing  on 
Horner;  and  Browning,  for  all  of  his  laziness,  could 
fight  like  a  tiger  when  he  was  aroused. 

Some  of  the  students  clapped  their  hands  in  appro- 
bation of  Tad's  plain  words,  and  there  was  a  general 
stir.  One  fellow  proposed  that  everybody  unmask,  so 
that  all  would  be  on  a  level  with  Horner,  but  the  little 
fellow  quickly  cried : 

"Don't  do  it !  You'd  all  be  spotted,  and  the  faculty 
would  know  who  to  investigate  if  anything  should 
happen  to  Diamond.  If  I'm  fired,  I  want  you  fellows 
to  settle  with  him  for  me." 


The  Blow.  33 

"We'll  do  it— we'll  do  it,  Tad!"  cried  more  than 
twenty  voices. 

Diamond  showed  his  white,  even  teeth  and  laughed 
shortly. 

"Perhaps  you  think  that  will  scare  me,"  he  sneered. 
"If  so,  you  will  find  I  am  not  bluffed  so  easily." 

"We  are  not  trying  to  scare  you,"  declared  another 
of  the  masked  students,  "but  you'll  find  we  are  in  ear- 
nest if  you  blow." 

"Well,  you  will  find  I  am  in  earnest,  and  I  do  not 
care  for  you  all." 

The  boys  began  to  despair,  for  they  saw  that  Dia- 
mond was  determined  and  obstinate,  and  it  would  be 
no  easy  thing  to  induce  him  to  abandon  his  intention 
of  reporting  the  hazing.  If  he  did  so,  Browning  and 
Homer  would  find  themselves  in  deep  trouble,  and 
others  might  become  involved  during  the  investiga- 
tion. It  was  not  probable  that  the  consequences  would 
be  serious  for  Merriwell,  who  would  be  able  to  prove 
his  innocence  in  the  matter. 

What  could  be  done? 

The  boys  fell  to  discussing  the  matter  in  little  groups, 
and  not  a  few  expressed  regret  that  Tad  Horner  had 
unmasked,  as  an  alibi  could  have  been  arranged  for 
him  if  he  had  not  done  so.  Now  he  would  be  too 
proud  to  permit  them  to  try  anything  of  the  sort,  and 


34  The  Blow. 

he  would  tell  the  truth  about  his  connection  with  the 
affair  if  the  truth  were  demanded  of  him. 

"We're  in  a  bad  box,"  said  one  fellow  in  one  of  the 
little  groups.  "Diamond  is  mad  enough  to  do  as  ht 
threatens." 

"Sure,"  nodded  another.  "And  that  breaks  up  this 
joint.  No  more  little  lunches  here — no  more  games 
of  penny  ante." 

"It's  a  howling  shame!"  exploded  a  third.  "It 
makes  me  feel  grouchy." 

"I  move  we  strangle  Diamond,"  suggested  the  first 
speaker. 

"It  seems  that  that  is  the  only  way  to  keep  his  tongue 
still,"  dolefully  groaned  a  tall  chap.  "This  is  a  big 
horse  on  us." 

"That's  what,"  sighed  a  boy  with  a  face  like  a  girl's. 
"The  whole  business  puts  me  in  a  blue  funk." 

Then  they  stood  and  stared  silently  at  each  other 
through  the  eyeholes  in  their  masks,  and  not  one  of 
them  was  able  to  propose  anything  practicable. 

The  rest  of  the  assembled  sophomores  seemed  in 
quite  as  bad  a  plight,  and  some  of  them  were  inclined 
to  indulge  in  profanity,  which,  although  it  relieved 
their  feelings  for  the  moment,  did  not  suggest  any  way 
out  of  the  scrape. 

At  this  point  Merriwell  spoke  up,  addressing  Dia- 
mond. 


The  Blow.  35 

"Look  here,  old  man,"  he  said  in  a  friendly  way, 
"you've  only  taken  the  same  dose  they  gave  me.  It's 
nothing  when  you  get  used  to  it." 

Diamond  gave  him  a  contemptuous  look,  but  did 
not  speak. 

"Now,  I  don't  propose  to  make  a  fuss  about  this 
little  joke,"  Frank  went  on.  "What's  the  use?  I'm 
not  half  killed." 

"Perhaps  you  think  you  can  hoodwink  me!"  cried 
Diamond.  "Well,  you  cannot!  You  were  in  the 
game  all  the  time.  That's  why  you  were  so  ready  to 
meet  me  in  a  duel — that's  why  you  came  here." 

"I  assure  you  on  my  word  of  honor  that  you  are 
wrong." 

"Your  word  of  honor!" 

"Yes,  my  word  of  honor,"  he  calmly  returned.  "See 
— look  at  my  clothes.  You  can  tell  that  I  have  been 
through  the  mill." 

"You  may  have  had  them  fixed  that  way  on  pur- 
pose to  fool  me." 

"Oh,  you  must  know  better  than  that!  Be  reason- 
able, Diamond." 

The  Virginian  made  a  savage  gesture. 

"If  you  are  so  pleased  to  be  made  a  laughingstock 
of  it's  nothing  to  me,"  he  flashed.  "Keep  still  if  you 
want  to.  I'm  going  to  tell  all  I  know." 


36  The  Blow. 

"That  would  make  a  very  large  book — full  of  nice 
clean,  blank  pages,"  said  some  one  in  the  background. 

Frank's  manner  suddenly  changed. 

"Look  here,  Diamond,"  he  said,  "you  won't  tel!  ? 
thing." 

The  Southerner  caught  his  breath  and  his  eyes 
stared. 

"Eh?"  he  muttered,  surprised  at  the  other's  man- 
ner. "I  wont?" 

"Not  on  your  life." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  it  will  mean  expulsion  for  you  as  well  as 
myself  if  you  do." 

Every  one  was  listening.  They  gathered  about  the 
two  freshmen,  wondering  not  a  little  at  Merriwell's 
words  and  manner. 

"Expulsion  for  me?"  slowly  repeated  Diamond. 
"How  is  that?" 

"It's  straight  goods." 

"Explain  it." 

"Well,  I  will.  We  came  here  to  fight  a  duel,  didnf/ 
we?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  admit  that?" 

"I  do,  sir." 

"That  is  all  that's  needed." 

"How  ?    Why  ?    I  don't  understand." 


The  Blow.  37 

"Duels  are  not  countenanced  in  the  North,  and 
nothing  would  cause  a  fellow  to  be  fired  from  Yale 
quicker  than  the  knowledge  that  he  had  had  anything 
to  do  with  one  while  here.  Do  you  twig?" 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence  and  then  a  stir.  A 
deep  sigh  of  relief  came  from  the  masked  lads,  and 
some  of  them  showed  an  inclination  to  cheer  Merri- 
well. 

Diamond  seemed  nonplused  for  the  moment.  He 
glared  at  Frank,  his  hands  clinched  and  his  face  pale. 

At  last  he  slowly  said : 

"A  duel  is  something  no  gentleman  can  blow  about, 
so  if  you  are  a  gentleman  you  will  have  to  remain 
silent,  sir." 

"That's  the  way  you  Southerners  look  at  it,  but 
you  will  excuse  us  Northerners  if  we  do  not  see  it  in 
the  same  light.  A  hazing  is  something  we  do  not  blow 
about,  but  you  seem  determined  to  let  out  everything, 
for  all  that  it  would  be  a  dirty  thing  to  do.  In  order 
to  even  the  matter,  these  fellows  are  sure  to  tell  that 
we  came  here  to  fight  a  duel  with  deadly  weapons,  and 
you'll  find  yourself  rusticating  in  Virginia  directly." 

'  'Way  down  in  ole  Virginny,"  softly  warbled  one 
of  the  delighted  sophomores.  "That's  the  stuff,  Merry, 
old  boy !" 

Diamond  trembled  with  intense  anger.  He  tried 
to  speak,  but  his  voice  was  so  hoarse  that  his  words 


38  The  Blow. 

were  unintelligible.  A  blue  line  seemed  to  form  around 
his  mouth. 

"Merriwell's  got  him!"  Bruce  Brown  lazily  whis- 
pered in  Tad  Horner's  ear.  "See  him  squirm !" 

Tad  was  relieved,  although  he  endeavored  not  to 
show  it;  but  a  satisfied  smile  crept  over  his  rosy  face, 
and  he  felt  like  giving  Frank  Merriwell  the  "glad 
hand." 

Diamond's  anger  got  the  best  of  him.  He  strode 
forward,  looked  straight  into  Frank's  eyes,  and  panted : 

"I  hate  you,  sir !    I  could  kill  you !" 

And  then,  before  he  realized  what  he  was  doing,  he 
struck  Merriwell  a  sharp  blow  on  the  cheek  with  his 
open  hand 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   FIGHT. 

The  blow  staggered  Frank.  It  had  come  so  sud- 
denly that  he  was  quite  unprepared  for  it.  His  face 
became  suddenly  pale,  save  where  Diamond's  hand  had 
struck,  and  there  the  crimson  prints  of  four  fingers 
came  out  quickly,  like  a  danger  signal. 

With  the  utmost  deliberation  Merriwell  removed  his 
coat. 

"Come,  sir!"  he  said  to  Diamond  as  he  passed  coat 
and  hat  to  a  ready  sophomore. 

"I — I  can't  fight  you  that  way!"  protested  the  Vir- 
ginian, "Bring  the  rapiers." 

"This  time  I  claim  the  right  to  name  the  weapons, 
and  they  will  be  bare  fists." 

"Right!  right!"  cried  several  voices.  "You'll  have 
to  fight  him  that  way,  Diamond." 

:<I  will  fight  him!"  grated  Jack,  furiously.  "It  is 
the  prize  fighter's  way,  but  I'll  fight  him,  and  I  will  lick 
•him !" 

He  tore  off  his  coat  and  flung  it  down.  The  boys 
quickly  formed  a  ring,  and  the  freshmen  foes  faced 
each  other. 


4O  The  Fight. 

Then  the  door  of  the  room  where  the  other  freshmen 
were  confined  was  thrust  open,  and  Harry  Rattleton 
excitedly  cried: 

"Whee  jiz — I  mean  jee  whiz!  what  do  you  fellows 
think  ?  Do  you  imagine  we  are  going  to  stay  penned 
in  here  while  there  is  a  scrap  going  on  ?  Well,  I  guess 
not!  We're  coming  out!" 

Harry  came  with  a  rush,  and  the  other  freshmen  fol- 
lowed at  his  heels,  the  party  having  been  abandoned  by 
the  sophs  who  had  been  placed  on  guard  over  them. 

"Hold  on!  hold  on!"  commanded  Harry,  forcing 
his  way  toward  the  fighters.  "I  am  Merriwell's  sec- 
ond, and  I'm  going  to  see  fair  play,  you  bet!" 

"And  I  am  Diamond's  second,"  said  Roland  Ditson. 
"Just  give  me  a  chance  in  the  ring  there." 

The  appearance  of  the  freshmen  caused  a  brief  de- 
lay. There  was  some  talk  about  rules  and  rounds, 
and  Diamond  said : 

"If  I  must  fight  with  my  fists,  I'll  fight  as  I  please. 
I  don't  know  about  your  rules,  and  there  will  be  but 
one  round — that  will  finish  it" 

"How  does  that  suit  you,  Merriwell?"  asked  Tad 
Horner,  who  seemed  to  have  assumed  the  position  of 
referee, 

"I  am  willing  that  Mr.  Diamond  should  arrange  that 
matter  to  suit  himself." 


The  Fight.  41 

"But  there  is  to  be  no  kicking,"  Tad  Homer  hastily 
put  in. 

"Certainly  not,"  stiffly  agreed  the  Southerner. 

"All  right.     Shake  hands." 

Diamond  placed  both  hands  behind  his  back,  and 
Merriwell  laughed. 

"Ready!"  called  Horner.  "On  guard!  Now  you're 
off!" 

Barely  had  the  words  left  the  little  referee's  lips 
when — top,  tap,  slap! — Merriwell  had  struck  Diamond 
three  light  blows  with  his  open  hand. 

A  gasp  of  astonishment  came  from  the  watching 
sophomores.  Never  had  they  seen  three  blows  de- 
livered in  such  lightning-like  rapidity,  but  their  ears 
had  not  fooled  them,  and  they  heard  each  blow  dis- 
tinctly. 

Merriwell's  guard  was  perfect,  his  pose  was  light 
and  professional,  and  he  suddenly  seemed  catlike  on 
his  feet. 

Diamond  was  astonished,  but  only  for  an  instant. 
The  tapping  blows  started  his  blood,  and  he  sprang 
toward  his  foe,  striking  out  with  his  left  and  then  with 
his  right. 

Merriwell  did  not  attempt  to  guard,  but  he  dodged 
both  blows  with  ease,  and  then  smiled  sweetly  into  the 
face  of  the  baffled  Virginian. 

"Oh,  say!"  chuckled  Harry  Rattleton,  hugging  him- 


42  The  Fight. 

self  in  delighted  anticipation,  "just  you  fellows  wait  a 
minute!  Diamond  will  think  he  has  been  struck  by 
an  earthquake!" 

Bruce  Browning,  himself  a  scientific  boxer,  was 
watching  every  movement  of  the  two  freshmen.  H^ 
turned  to  Puss  Parker  at  his  side  and  said : 

"Merriwell  handles  himself  like  an  old  professional. 
By  Jove!  I  believe  there's  good  stuff  in  that  fellow!" 

"Diamond  would  like  to  kill  Merriwell,"  said  Parker. 
"You  can  see  it  in  his  face  and  eyes." 

In  truth  there  was  a  deadly  look  in  the  eyes  of  the 
pale-faced  young  Virginian.  His  lips  were  pressed  to- 
gether, and  a  hardening  of  the  jaws  told  that  his  teeth 
were  set.  He  was  following  Merriwell  up,  and  the 
latter  was  avoiding  him  with  ease.  Plainly  Diamond 
meant  to  corner  the  lad  he  hated  and  then  force  the 
fighting  to  a  finish. 

The  rivals  were  nearly  of  a  height  and  they  were 
built  much  alike,  although  Frank  had  slightly  the  bet- 
ter chest  development. 

Merriwell  seemed  to  toy  with  Diamond,  giving  him 
several  little  pat-like  blows  on  the  breast  and  in  the 
ribs.  When  the  Virginian  felt  that  he  had  Frank  cor- 
nered he  was  astonished  to  see  Merriwell  slip  under 
his  arm  and  come  up  laughing  behind  him. 

Merriwell's  laughter  filled  Diamond's  very  soul  with 
gall  and  wormwood. 


! 


The  Fight.  43 

"Wait!"  he  thought.  "He  laughs  best  who  laughs 
last." 

"Give  it  to  him,  Frank!"  urged  Rattleton.  "You'll 
get  out  of  wind  dodging  about,  and  then  it  will  not 
be  so  easy  to  finish  him  off." 

But  Frank  saw  that  in  a  scientific  way  Diamond  was 
no  match  for  him,  and  he  disliked  to  strike  the  fellow. 
He  regretted  very  much  that  the  unfortunate  affair  had 
come  about,  and  he  felt  that  there  could  be  no  satis- 
faction in  whipping  the  Southerner. 

Merriwell  hoped  to  toy  with  Diamond  till  the  latter 
should  see  that  his  efforts  were  fruitless  and  give  up 
in  disgust. 

But  he  did  not  yet  recognize  the  kind  of  stuff  of 
which  John  Diamond  was  built. 

"Come!  come!"  impatiently  called  one  of  the  spec- 
tators. "Quit  ducking  and  dodging  and  get  into  the 
game." 

"That's  right !  that's  right !"  chorused  several.  "This 
is  no  sport." 

"And  it's  no  six-day  walking  match,"  sneered  Ro- 
hnd  Ditson.  "Merriwell  seems  afraid  to  stand  up  and 
face  Diamond." 

"Is  that  what  you  think?"  Frank  mentally  ex- 
claimed. "Well,  I  suppose  I  will  have  to  hit  him  a 
few  times,  although  it  goes  against  my  grain." 

A  moment  later  he  dropped  his  hands  by  his  side  and 


44  The  Fight. 

took  a  step  to  meet  the  Virginian.  It  seemed  like  a 
great  opportunity  for  Diamond,  and  he  led  off  straight 
for  Frank's  face,  striking  with  his  left. 

With  a  slight  side  movement  of  his  head  Frank 
avoided  the  blow,  allowing  his  enemy's  fist  to  pass  over 
his  shoulder.  At  the  same  time  he  cross  countered 
with  his  right  hand,  cracking  Jack  a  heavy  one  under 
the  ear. 

"Hooray!"  cried  Harry  Rattleton  in  delight.  "That 
was  a  corker !  Bet  Sparkler  saw  more  stars  than  there 
are  in  the  Wilky  May — I  mean  Milky  Way." 

For  a  few  minutes  the  fight  was  hot.  Again  and 
again  Frank  struck  his  enemy,  but  without  putting  his 
full  strength  into  any  of  the  blows,  but  it  did  not  seem 
to  have  any  effect  on  Diamond  save  to  make  him  more 
fierce  and  determined. 

"The  Southerner's  got  some  sand,"  commented 
Bruce  Browning. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Puss  Parker. 

"He  takes  punishment  well  for  a  while,  at  least ;  but 
I  don't  believe  he  will  hold  out  much  longer.  I  think 
he  is  the  kind  of  a  fellow  to  go  to  pieces  in  an  instant.'' 

"You  can't  tell  about  that  I  have  a  fancy  that  he's 
deceptive." 

None  of  them,  save  Rattleton,  possibly,  knew  that 
Merriwell  was  reserving  any  of  his  strength  when  he 
struck  his  foe. 


The  Fight.  45 

The  fellows  who  a  short  time  before  were  the  most 
indignant  against  the  Southerner  because  he  seemed 
determined  to  "blow"  were  now  forced  to  admire  his 
bulldog  tenacity  and  sand. 

Merriwell  had  no  desire  to  severely  injure  Diamond, 
although  he  had  felt  some  resentment  toward  the  fel- 
low for  forcing  him  into  a  duel  with  rapiers. 

To  Frank  it  had  seemed  that  the  Virginian  had  no 
hesitation  in  taking  advantage  of  an  enemy,  for  Dia- 
mond must  have  presumed  that  Merriwell  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  art  of  fencing  and  swordplay. 

But  for  this  belief,  Merriwell  would  have  been  in- 
clined to  keep  on  and  tire  his  enemy  out,  without  strik- 
ing a  single  blow  that  could  leave  a  mark. 

But  when  Frank  came  to  consider  everything,  he  de- 
cided that  it  was  no  more  than  fair  that  he  should  give 
his  persistent  foe  a  certain  amount  of  punishment. 

Again  and  again  Frank  cross  countered  and  upper- 
cut  Diamond,  and  gradually  he  came  to  strike  harder 
as  the  Virginian  forced  the  fighting,  without  showing 
signs  of  letting  up. 

Bruises  and  swellings  began  to  appear  on  Diamond9; 
face.  On  one  cheek  Merriwell's  knuckles  cut  through 
the  skin,  and  the  blood  began  to  run,  creeping  down  to 
his  chin  and  dropping  on  the  bosom  of  his  white  shirt. 

Still,  from  the  determination  and  fury  with  which 


46  The  Fight. 

he  fought,  it  seemed  that  Diamond  was  utterly  un- 
conscious that  he  had  been  struck  at  all. 

Jack  did  not  consider  how  he  had  led  Frank  into  a 
duel  with  rapiers  without  knowing  whether  the  fellow 
he  hated  had  ever  taken  a  fencing  lesson  in  all  his  life. 

His  one  thought  was  that,  being  an  expert  boxer 
himself,  Merriwell  had  forced  him  to  a  fist  fight,  be- 
lieving it  would  be  easy  to  dispose  of  him  that  way. 

Diamond's  hatred  of  Frank  made  him  blind  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  in  the  least  to  blame,  and  filled  him 
with  a  passionate  belief  that  he  could  kill  the  smiling 
Northerner  without  a  qualm  of  conscience — without 
a  pang  of  remorse. 

At  last,  disgusted  with  his  non-success  in  striking 
Frank  at  all,  he  sprang  forward  suddenly  and  grappled 
with  him. 

Frank  had  been  on  the  watch  for  that  move. 

Then  the  boys  saw  a  pretty  struggle  for  a  moment, 
ending  with  Diamond  being  lifted  and  dropped  heavily, 
squarely  on  his  back. 

Merriwell  came  down  heavily  on  his  persistent 
enemy. 

Frank  fell  on  Jack  with  the  hope  of  knocking  the 
wind  out  of  the  fellow  and  thus  bringing  the  fight  to 
a  close. 

For  a  few  moments  it  seemed  that  he  had  succeeded. 


The  Fight.  47 

Frank  sprang  up  lightly,  just  as  Tad  Horner  grap- 
pled him  by  the  hair  with  both  hands  and  yelled : 

"Break  away!" 

Roland  Ditson  was  at  Diamond's  side  in  a  twinkling, 

"Come,  come,  old  man !"  he  whispered ;  "get  up  and 
get  into  the  game  again!  Don't  let  them  count  you 
out !" 

But  the  Virginian  was  gasping  for  breath,  and  he 
did  not  seem  to  hear  the  words  of  his  second. 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Puss  Parker,  promptly. 

"Better  wait  and  see,"  advised  Bruce  Browning. 
"Diamond  may  not  give  up  when  he  gets  his  breath." 

"It  doesn't  look  as  if  he'd  ever  get  his  breath  again." 

Harry  Rattleton  was  at  Frank's  side,  swiftly  saying : 

"Why  didn't  you  knock  him  out  and  show  the  fel- 
lows what  you  can  do?  You  monkeyed  with  the  goat 
too  long.  He's  stuffy,  and  you  had  to  settle  him  some- 
time. It  didn't  make  a  dit  of  bifference  whether  it 
was  first  or  last." 

"That's  all  right,"  smiled  Frank.  "He's  got  sand, 
and  I  hated  to  nail  him  hard.  It  seemed  a  shame  to 
thump  such  a  fellow  and  cover  his  face  with  decora- 
tions." 

"Shame?  shame?"  spluttered  Harry.  "Why, 
didn't  he  force  you  into  a  duel  with  rapiers,  or  try  to? 
and  he  is  an  expert !  Say,  what's  the  matter  with  you  ? 
If  I'd  been  in  your  place  I'd  gone  into  him  tooth  and 


48  The  Fight. 

nail,  and  I  wouldn't  have  left  him  in  the  shape  of  any- 
thing. Have  you  got  a  soft  spot  around  you  some- 
where, Merriwell?" 

"I  admire  sand,  even  if  it  is  in  an  enemy." 

"You  take  the  cherry  pie — yes,  you  take  the  whole 
oakery!" 

Harry  gazed  at  his  roommate  in  wonder  that  was  not 
entirely  unmingled  with  pity  and  disgust.  He  could 
not  understand  Merriwell,  and  such  generosity  toward 
a  persistent  foe  on  the  part  of  Frank  seemed  like  weak- 
ness. 

In  the  meantime  Ditson  had  been  urging  Diamond 
to  get  up. 

"They'll  call  the  scrap  finished  if  you  don't  get  onto 
your  pins  in  a  jiffy,"  he  warned.  "Homer's  got  his 
watch  in  his  hand." 

Still  the  Virginian  gasped  for  breath  and  seemed 
unable  to  lift  a  hand.  If  ever  a  fellow  seemed  done  up, 
it  was  Diamond  just  then. 

Roll  Ditson  ground  his  teeth  in  despair. 

"Oh,  Merriwell  will  think  he  is  cock  of  the  walk 
low!"  he  muttered.  "He'll  crow  and  strut!  He's 
?.ughing  over  it  now!" 

"Wh-what's  that?"  gasped  Diamond,  trying  to 
sit  up. 

"He  is  laughing  at  you,"  hurriedly  whispered  Dit- 
son, lying  glibly.  "I  just  heard  him  tell  Rattleton  that 


The  Fight.  49 

he  could  have  knocked  the  stuffing  out  of  you  in  less 
rhan  a  quarter  of  a  minute.  He  says  you'll  nerer  dare 
face  him  again." 

"Oh,  he  does !  oh,  he  does !"  came  huskily  from  Dia- 
mond's lips.  "Well,  we'll  see  about  that — we'll  see!" 

With  Ditson's  aid  he  got  upon  his  feet.  Then  his 
breath  and  his  strength  seemed  to  come  to  him  in  a 
twinkling.  With  a  backward  snap  of  his  arm  he  flung 
his  second  away.  Then  uttering  a  hoarse  cry,  he 
rushed  like  a  mad  bull  at  the  lad  he  hated. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    FINISH. 

Diamond's  recovery  and  the  manner  in  which  he  re- 
sumed the  fight  caused  general  astonishment.  Even 
Bruce  Browning  had  come  to  think  that  the  Virginian 
was  "out." 

Frank  was  taken  by  surprise.  Before  he  could 
square  away  to  meet  his  foe,  Diamond  struck  him  a  ter- 
rific blow  near  the  temple,  knocking  him  into  Rattle- 
ton's  arms. 

"Foul!"  cried  Harry,  excitedly.  "Homer  hadn't 
given  the  word." 

"Foul!  fouf!"  came  from  all  sides. 

"There  is  no  foul  in  this  fight  save  when  something 
.is  used  besides  fists,"  declared  Merriwell  as  he  stag- 
gered from  his  roommate's  arms.  "It's  all  right  and 
it  goes." 

But  he  found  that  everything  seemed  swimming 
around  him,  and  dark  spots  were  pursuing  each  other 
before  his  eyes.  The  floor  seemed  to  heave  like  the 
deck  of  a  ship  at  sea.  He  put  out  his  hand  to  grasp 
something,  and  then  he  was  struck  again. 


The  Finish.  51 

Once  more  Rattleton's  arms  kept  Frank  from  going 
down. 

"This  is  no  square  deal !"  Harry  shouted.  "By  the 
poly  hoker — I  mean  the  holy  poker!  I'll  take  a  hand 
in  this  myself!" 

He  would  have  released  Merriwell  and  jumped  into 
the  ring,  but  Frank's  strong  fingers  closed  on  his  arm. 

"Steady,  old  man!"  came  sharply  from  Merriwell's 
lips.  "I  am  in  this  yet  awhile.  If  Diamond  finishes 
me  he  is  to  be  let  alone.  The  fellow  that  lays  a  hand 
on  him  is  no  friend  of  mine !" 

"You  give  me  cramps !"  groaned  Harry. 

Instead  of  aiding  in  finishing  Frank,  Diamond's 
second  blow  seemed  to  straighten  him  up,  as  if  it  had 
cleared  a  fog  from  his  brain.  The  spots  disappeared 
before  his  eyes  and  things  ceased  to  swim  around  him. 

Into  the  ring  to  meet  his  foe  sprang  Frank,  and,  to 
the  astonishment  of  everybody  he  still  smiled. 

At  the  same  time,  Merriwell  knew  he  had  toyed  with 
Diamond  too  long.  He  realized  that  the  Virginian's 
first  blow  had  come  within  a  hair  of  knocking  him  out. 
and  he  could  still  hear  a  faint,  ringing  and  roaring  in 
his  head. 

Frank  saw  that  the  only  way  he  could  end  the  fight 
was  to  finish  his  unrelenting  and  persistent  foe. 

Diamond  fought  like  an  infuriated  tiger.  Again 
and  again  Frank's  fist  cracked  on  his  face,  and  still  he 


52  The  Finish. 

did  not  falter,  but  continued  to  stand  up  and  "take  his 
medicine." 

In  less  than  a  minute  the  Virginian  was  bleeding 
at  the  nose,  and  had  received  a  blow  in  one  of  his  eyes 
that  was  causing  it  to  swell  in  a  way  that  threatened  to 
close  it  entirely. 

The  spectators  were  greatly  excited,  and  not  a  few 
of  them  declared  it  was  the  most  gamey  fight  they  had 
ever  witnessed. 

The  front  of  Diamond's  shirt  was  stained  with 
blood,  and  he  presented  a  sorry  aspect.  His  chest  was 
heaving,  but  his  uninjured  eye  glared  with  unabated 
fury  and  determination. 

"Will  he  never  give  up  ?"  muttered  Harry  Rattleton. 
"He's  a  regular  hog!  The  fellow  doesn't  know  when 
he  has  enough." 

It  was  true  Southern  grit.  It  was  the  unyielding 
Southern  spirit — the  spirit  that  led  the  soldiers  of  the 
South  to  make  one  of  the  pluckiest  struggles  known  in 
history. 

While  the  fellow's  grit  had  won  Frank's  admiration, 
still  Merriwell  had  learned  that  it  would  not  do  to  let 
up.  The  only  way  out  of  the  fight  was  to  end  it,  anc 
he  set  about  trying  to  accomplish  that  with  as  little  de 
lay  as  possible. 

Once  Diamond  succeeded  in  getting  in  another  blow, 


The  Finish.  53 

and  it  left  a  slight  swelling  over  one  of  the  other  lad's 
eyes. 

But  Merriwell  did  not  seem  to  know  that  he  had 
been  hit.  He  soon  cracked  the  Virginian  upon  the 
uninjured  eye,  and  that  began  to  swell.  In  a  few  sec- 
onds it  seemed  that  Diamond  must  soon  go  blind. 

"Finish  him,  old  man — finish  him !"  urged  Harry. 

Frank  was  looking  for  the  chance,  but  it  was  some 
time  before  he  found  it.  It  came  at  last,  and  his  left 
Janded  on  the  jaw  beneath  Diamond's  ear. 

Over  went  the  Southerner,  and  he  lay  like  a  log 
where  he  fell. 

At  a  glance,  it  was  evident  to  all  that  he  was 
knocked  out. 

The  boys  crowded  around  Merriwell,  eager  to  con- 
gratulate him,  but  he  thrust  them  back,  saying: 

"It's  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  ever  did  a  thing  of 
which  I  was  ashamed!  Look  after  him.  I'm  all 
right." 

"Say!"  exploded  Harry  Rattleton,  "you  make  me 
sick!  Didn't  you  have  to  do  it?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"Didn't  he  strike  you  foul  twice  ?" 

"He  knows  nothing  of  rules,  and  we  were  fighting 
by  no  rules,  so  there  could  be  no  foul." 

"Oh,  no!  If  he'd  soaked  you  with  a  brick  you'd 
said  it  was  all  right !  I  say,  you  make  me  sick !  Wait 


54  The  Finish. 

till  he  gets  a  good  chance  to  do  you,  and  see  how  quick 
he  will  take  it." 

"He'll  not  be  to  blame  if  he  tries  to  get  square." 

"Oh,  go  hoke  your  sed — I  mean  soak  your  head! 
I'll  catch  you  some  time  when  you  are  asleep  and  try 
to  pound  a  little  sense  into  you." 

"Well,  take  care  of  Diamond,"  ordered  MerriwelL 
"That  last  one  I  gave  him  was  a  beastly  thump." 

"Let  the  other  fellows  take  care  of  him,"  said  Harry. 
"We'll  rub  you  down.  You  need  it.  Got  any  towels, 
Mr.  Homer?" 

"Guess  we  can  find  one  or  two,"  cheerfully  answered 
Tad.  "Come  on,  Merriwell.  We'll  fix  you  up." 

Frank  followed  them  into  the  room  where  the  cap- 
tured freshmen  had  been  confined,  and  there  they  found 
running  water,  an  old  iron  sink,  a  tin  wash  basin,  and 
some  towels. 

The  visitor  was  stripped  and  given  a  brisk  and  thor- 
ough rubbing  and  sponging  by  Harry  and  Tad. 

Bruce  Browning,  with  his  mask  still  over  his  face, 
came  loafing  in  and  looked  the  stripped  freshman  over 
with  a  critical  eye.  He  inspected  Frank  from  all  sides, 
poked  him  with  his  fingers,  felt  of  his  arms  and  legs, 
surveyed  the  muscles  of  his  back  and  chest,  and  then 
stood  off  and  took  him  all  in  at  a  glance. 

"Humph !"  he  grunted. 

Frank's  delicate  pink  skin  glowed,  and  he  looked  a 


The  Finish.  55 

perfect  Apollo,  with  a  splendid  head  poised  upon  a 
white,  shapely  neck.  Never  had  he  looked  handsomer 
in  all  his  life  than  he  did  at  that  moment,  stripped  to 
the  buff,  his  brown  hair  frowsled,  his  body  glowing 
from  the  rubbing. 

"By  Jove!"  cried  Tad  Homer,  who  was  sometimes 
called  Baby,  "he's  a  Jim  Hickey — eh,  old  man  ?" 

The  interrogation  was  directed  at  Browning. 

"Humph!"  grunted  Bruce,  and  then  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets  he  loafed  out  of  the  room. 

Afterward  it  was  reported  that  Browning  said  the 
freshman  was  the  finest-put-up  chap  he  had  ever  seen, 
but  he  didn't  want  to  give  him  the  swelled  head  by  tell- 
ing him  so. 

By  the  time  Merriwell  was  well  rubbed  down  one  of 
the  freshmen  came  in  and  reported  that  Diamond  had 
come  around  all  right. 

"They're  going  to  bring  him  in  here  and  give  him  a 
rubbing,"  said  the  freshman. 

Frank  hastened  to  get  into  his  clothes,  in  order  that 
Diamond  might  have  a  chance.  Rattleton  had  brushed 
the  dirt  and  sawdust  off  those  clothes,  so  they  looked 
pretty  well,  and  Merriwell  showed  no  traces  of  what  he 
had  passed  through  when  he  stepped  out  of  the  little 
room. 

Some  of  the  boys  were  trying  to  induce  Diamond  to 
be  rubbed  down,  but  he  objected,  declaring  he  was 


56  The  Finish. 

going  directly  to  his  room.  The  blood  had  been 
washed  from  his  face,  and  one  or  two  cuts  had  been 
patched  up  with  court-plaster,  but  his  eyes  were  nearly 
closed,  and  he  presented  a  pitiful  appearance. 

Frank  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  he  stepped  up 
to  his  foe,  saying  in  a  manner  most  sincere: 

"Old  man,  I  am  sorry  this  affair  took  place.  I  had 
the  advantage,  because  I  have  taken  boxing  lessons, 
but  you  made  a  beautiful  fight.  I  hold  no  hard  feel- 
ings. Let's  call  it  quits  and  shake." 

He  held  out  his  hand. 

Diamond's  reply  was  to  turn  his  back  squarely  ofi 
the  proffered  hand. 

An  additional  flush  arose  to  Merriwell's  cheeks,  and 
he  dropped  his  hand  by  his  side,  turning  away  without 
another  word. 

A  few  moments  later  Diamond  left  the  building,  ac- 
companied by  a  single  companion,  and  that  companion 
was  not  Roland  Ditson. 

Ditson  remained  behind,  and  he  was  among  those 
who  crowded  about  Frank  Merriwell  and  offered  con- 
gratulations. 

"I  was  Diamond's  second,"  said  Roll,  "but  I  am  sat- 
isfied that  the  best  man  won.  He  is  no  match  for  yon, 
Merriwell.  I  shouldn't  have  been  his  second,  only  he 
urged  me  to.  I  was  glad  to  see  you  do  him  up." 

He  got  hold  of  Frank's  hand  and  held  on,  but  re- 


The  Finish.  57 

ceived  no  friendly  pressure  in  return.  When  he  said 
he  was  glad  that  Merriwell  did  Diamond  up  Frank 
looked  incredulous. 

"As  for  me,"  said  the  victor,  "I  was  sorry  to  have 
to  do  him  up." 

Somewhere  about  the  place  Rattleton  had  found  an 
old  floral  decoration  representing  a  harp.  He  brought 
it  forward  and  presented  it  to  Frank. 

"Take  it,"  he  said.  "You'll  need  it  pretty  soon. 
Your  wings  must  be  sprouting  already!" 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Frank. 

"Why,  can't  you  see?     It's  a  harp." 

"It  looks  to  me  like  a  blasted  lyre,"  said  MerriwelL 
"You'd  better  give  it  to  Ditson." 

Then  everybody  but  Ditson  laughed. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A     FRESH     COU  NCIL. 

Diamond  was  in  a  wretched  condition.  Hunk  Col- 
lins, his  roommate,  procured  two  slices  of  fresh  beef- 
steak, and  the  Virginian  had  them  bound  over  his  eyes, 
while  his  face  was  bathed  with  soothing  and  healing 
lotions;  but  nothing  could  soothe  his  bruised  and  bat- 
tered spirit,  and  Collins  said  he  was  kept  awake  aH 
night  by  hearing  Diamond  grind  his  teeth  at  irregular 
intervals. 

Even  when  he  slept  near  morning  the  Southerner 
continued  to  grind  his  strong  white  teeth. 

Collins  was  dropping  off  to  sleep  from  sheer  weari- 
ness when  he  awoke  to  find  his  roommate  astride  him 
and  clutching  him  by  the  throat. 

"This  time  I'll  fix  you!"  mumbled  Diamond,  thickly. 
"I'll  kill  you,  Merriwell— I'll  kill  you!" 

Then  he  struck  feeby  at  Collins,  who  rolled  over  and 
flung  him  off.  They  grappled,  and  it  was  a  severe 
struggle  before  Diamond  was  flung  down  on  the  bed 
and  held. 

"What  in  thunder  is  the  matter  with  you?"  gasped 


A  Fresh  Council.  59 

Collins,  whose  hair  was  standing.  "I'm  not  Merri- 
well !  Have  you  gone  daft  ?" 

"Where  are  we?" 

"Why,  in  our  room,  of  course.  Where  did  you 
think  we  were  ?" 

"I  didn't  know.     I  was  dreaming." 

"Well,  if  you  are  going  to  be  this  way  often,  I'll  have 
to  take  out  a  life  insurance  policy  or  quit  you." 

"Don't  mind.  I'll  be  all  right  in  the  morning.  Oh, 
hang  the  luck !" 

Then  the  passionate  Southerner  turned  over  with 
his  face  toward  the  wall.  Collins  smoked  a  cigarette 
to  quiet  his  nerves,  after  which  he  got  into  bed  once 
more.  At  intervals  he  could  feel  the  bed  shake,  and 
he  knew  Diamond  was  shivering  as  if  he  had  a  chill. 

In  the  morning  Diamond  was  not  all  right.  He 
was  ill  in  bed,  and  it  was  necessary  to  call  a  physician, 
although  he  protested  against  it.  His  eyes  were  in 
wretched  shape,  but  when  the  doctor  questioned  him, 
he  persisted  in  saying  he  had  injured  them  by  falling 
downstairs. 

Of  course  he  could  not  appear  at  chapel  or  recita- 
tions, and  he  sent  in  an  excuse. 

Then  Mr.  Lovejoy  came  around  to  investigate. 

Now,  Mr.  Lovejoy  was  most  mild  and  lamblike  in 
appearance,  and  one  would  have  thought  never  in  all 


60  A  Fresh  Council. 

his  life  had  he  indulged  in  anything  that  was  not  per- 
fectly proper. 

But  appearances  were  deceptive  in  the  case  of  Mr. 
Lovejoy.  When  a  student  at  Yale  he  had  made  a  rec- 
ord, but  he  had  been  fortunate,  and  he  was  never  de- 
tected in  anything  the  faculty  could  not  approve.  By 
those  who  knew  him  he  was  regarded  as  a  terror,  and 
by  the  faculty  he  was  looked  on  as  one  of  the  most 
quiet  and  docile  students  in  college. 

When  Cyrus  Lovejoy  became  an  instructor  he  did 
not  forget  the  days  when  he  had  been  a  leader  in 
scrapes  of  all  sorts,  and  he  was  not  inclined  to  be  pry- 
ing into  the  affairs  of  students  under  him.  Not  only 
that,  but  he  could  be  blind  to  some  things  he  acci- 
dentally discovered. 

So  when  Mr.  Lovejoy  reported  that  John  Diamond's 
eyes,  being  naturally  weak,  were  inflamed  by  too  close 
application  to  his  studies,  especially  in  the  evening,  no 
one  thought  of  investigating  further.  The  doctor,  it 
was  said,  had  forbidden  Diamond  to  attempt  to  study 
for  several  days,  and  had  ordered  him  to  wear  a  band- 
age over  his  eyes. 

Two  or  three  evenings  after  the  fight  a  party  of 
freshmen  gathered  in  Merriwell's  room,  for  they  were 
beginning  to  realize  that  Frank  was  likely  to  be  a  leader 
among  them. 

"I  say,  fellows,"  cried  Dan  Dorman,  who  was  sitting 


A  Fresh  Council.  61 

on  the  sill  of  the  open  window,  with  a  cigarette  cling- 
ing to  his  lips,  "do  you  know  what  Diamond  is  doing?" 

"He's  doing  his  best  to  cure  those  beautiful  eyes  of 
his,"  said  Bandy  Robinson. 

"I'm  giving  it  to  you  straight  that  he  was  out  to- 
day and  went  down  to  the  nearest  gun  store,"  declared 
Dorman.  "Collins  says  he  bought  a  Winchester  rifle,, 
a  shotgun,  two  revolvers,  a  bowie  knife,  a  slungshot, 
and  a  set  of  brass  knuckles." 

"Wo-o-oh!"  groaned  Dismal  Jones.  "Why  didn't 
he  purchase  a  cannon  and  start  for  some  battlefield?" 

"Look  out,  Merry,"  laughed  Ned  Stover.  "He's 
after  your  scalp." 

"He'll  have  to  get  a  bigger  outfit  than  that  before  he 
takes  it,"  declared  Harry  Rattleton. 

("How  about  it,  Merry?"  asked  Bandy  Robinson. 
"I'll  tell  you,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  who  was  not 
smoking.     "Diamond   is  not  the  fellow  to  give  up 
whipped  very  soon.     I'm  dead  sure  to  hear  from  him 
again." 

"He's  a  cad,"  growled  Dismal  Jones. 

"I  think  you  fellows  judge  him  rather  harshly,"  said 
Frank.  "He  is  a  Southerner,  and  he  looks  at  many 
things  differently  than  we  do.  From  his  standpoint 
he  seems  to  be  right." 

"Well,  he'll  have  to  get  those  notions  out  of  his  head 
if  he  wants  to  stay  in  college,"  airily  declared  Dan  Dor- 


62  A  Fresh  Council. 

man.  "Now,  I  came  here  with  the  idea  of  falling  into 
the  ways  in  vogue.  Everything  goes  with  me.  That's 
the  way  to  get  along." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  Merriwell  returned.  "A 
man  must  have  some  individuality.  If  you  do  every- 
thing everybody  wants  you  to,  it  won't  be  long  before 
they'll  not  want  you  to  do  anything." 

"Oh,  well,  what's  the  use  to  be  always  hanging  off 
and  getting  yourself  disliked  ?" 

"One  extreme  is  as  bad  as  the  other.  Now,  I  make 
allowances  for  Diamond,  and  I  am  not  inclined  to  be- 
lieve him  such  a  bad  fellow." 

Harry  Rattleton  flung  a  book  across  the  room. 

"Oh,  you  give  me  the  flubdubs !"  he  exploded.  "Why, 
that  fellow  hates  you,  and  he  means  to  do  you  some 
time.  Still  you  are  soft  enough  to  say  he's  not  such  a 
bad  fellow !  It's  disgusting !" 

"Time  will  tell,"  smiled  Frank.  "All  of  you  fellows 
must  admit  that  he  has  sand." 

"Oh,  a  kind  of  bulldog  stick- to-it-iveness,"  mur- 
mured Stover. 

"I'll  tell  you  one  thing,"  said  Bandy  Robinson ;  "now 
that  Diamond  has  not  blowed,  he's  going  to  be  backed 
by  some  of  the  leading  sophs." 

"Eh?     What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Oh,  I've  got  it  straight.  Browning  has  been  to 
see  him." 


A  Fresh  Council.  63 

"No!     Why,  Browning  is  king  of  the  sophs!" 

"And  he  is  jealous  of  Merriwell." 

"Jealous?" 

"Sure.  He  says  Merry  is  altogether  too  'soon'  for 
a  fresh,  and  he  must  be  taken  down.  I  tell  you  I've 
got  it  straight.  He'll  put  up  some  kind  of  a  game  to 
enable  Diamond  to  get  square." 

"Well,  this  is  rather  interesting,"  confessed  Frank, 
showing  that  he  was  aroused.  "I'll  have  to  look  out 
for  Mr.  Browning." 

"He's  a  hard  fellow  to  go  against,"  solemnly  said 
Dismal  Jones.  "He's  a  Le  Boule  man,  and  they  say 
he  may  take  his  choice  of  the  other  big  societies  next 
year." 

"Oh,  what's  that  amount  to  ?" 

"It  amounts  to  something  here;  but  then  he's  a 
fighter,  and  he  is  authority  on  fighters  and  fighting." 

"He  is  too  fat  to  fight." 

"They  say  he  can  train  down  in  a  week.  He  was 
the  greatest  freshman  half-back  ever  known  at  Yale." 

"Half-back — Browning  a  half-back!  Oh,  say,  that 
fellow  couldn't  play  football !" 

"Not  a  great  deal  now,  perhaps,  but  he  could  last 
year.  He'd  be  on  the  regular  team  now,  but  his  father 
swore  to  take  him  out  of  college  if  he  didn't  stop  it. 
You  see,  Browning  is  not  entirely  to  blame  for  his  lazi- 
ness. He  inherits  it  from  his  father,  and  the  old  man 


64  A  Fresh  Council. 

will  not  allow  him  to  lead  in  athletics,  so  whatever  he 
does  must  be  done  secretly." 

Frank  was  interested.  He  wondered  how  a  fellow 
like  Bruce  Browning  could  come  to  be  know  as  "king 
of  the  sophomores,"  unless  such  a  title  was  applied 
to  him  in  derision.  Now  he  began  to  understand  that 
Browning  was  something  more  than  the  lazy  mischief 
planner  that  he  had  seemed. 

Frank's  interest  in  Browning  grew. 
"And  you  say  he  is  backing  Diamond  ?" 
"That's  the  way  it  looks  from  the  road." 
"Well,  Mr.  Bruce  Browning  may  need  some  atten- 
tion.    It  is  he  who  puts  the  sophs  up  to  their  jobs  on 
us.     We  ought  to  put  up  a  big  one  on  him." 
"That's  right !  that's  right !" 

"Merry,"  said  Jones,  "set  the  complicated  machinery 
of  your  fertile  brain  to  work  and  see  what  it  will  bring 
forth." 

"That's  right!  that's  right!" 
"I'll  have  to  take  time  to  think  it  over." 
"We  have  a  few  soph  scalps,"  grinned  Rattleton, 
pointing  to  a  number  of  caps  with  which  the  walls  were 
decorated,  all  of  which  had  been  snatched  from  the 
heads  of  sophomores.     "Have  the  rest  of  you  fellows 
done  as  well  ?" 

"I  have  lost  two/'  confessed  Dan  Dorman.  "They 
seem  to  single  me  out  as  easy  fruit." 


A  Fresh  Council.  e>5 

"And  haven't  you  made  an  attempt  to  get  one  in  re- 
turn?" asked  Bandy  Robinson. 

"I  haven't  had  a  good  chance." 

"If  you  wait  for  a  good  chance  you'll  never  get  a 
scalp.  You  must  snatch  'em  whenever  you  can." 

"By  Jove!"  laughed  Frank,  "this  talk  about  scalps 
ras  given  me  an  idea." 

"Let's  have  it!"  exclaimed  several  of  the  boys  in 
unison. 

"Not  now,"  he  said.     "Wait  till  I  have  perfected  it." 

Roll  Ditson  strolled  in,  smoking  a  cigarette,  and 
said: 

"Hello,  Merry!  Hello,  fellows!  What's  up?  Coun- 
cil of  war?" 

"Just  that,"  said  Dan  Dorman.  "Merry  is  perfect- 
ing a  scheme  to  put  a  horse  on  Browning." 

"Eh?  Browning?  Great  Scott!  Is  that  so?  He's 
a  bad  man  to  monkey  with.  Better  let  him  alone, 
Merry." 

Ditson  had  a  patronizing  way  that  was  offensive  to 
Frank,  who  had  given  him  numberless  digs ;  but  he  was 
too  thick  to  tumble  or  he  deliberately  refused  to  take 
Merriwell's  words  as  they  were  intended. 

"You'll  have  to  kick  him  before  he  knows  he's  not 
wanted,"  Rattleton  had  said. 

"Thank  you  for  your  advice,"  said  Frank,  with  mild 


66  A  Fresh  Council. 

sarcasm — "thank  you  exceedingly!  Perhaps  you  are 
right." 

"Oh,  I  know  I  am.  I  don't  want  to  get  the  king 
after  me,  and  I  don't  believe  you  care  to  have  him  01. 
your  trail.  He  is  the  most  influential  soph  in  college. 
Why,  his  name  is  on  a  table  down  at  Morey's." 

Ditson  looked  around  as  if  his  last  statement  had 
settled  the  question  of  Browning's  vast  superiority 
over  all  sophomores. 

Morey's  was  the  favorite  resort  of  the  students,  and 
no  freshman  could  enter  there.  It  was  an  old  frame 
house,  with  low-posted  rooms,  and  there  one  could 
drink  everything  except  beer.  No  beer  could  be  had 
at  Morey's. 

Morey's  was  headquarters  for  the  Society  of  the 
Cup.  This  cup  had  six  handles  and  was  kept  in  a 
locked  closet.  On  the  cup  was  engraved  in  large  let- 
ters the  word  "Velvet,"  which  is  a  well-known  Yale 
drink,  composed  of  champagne  and  Dublin  stout,  a 
drink  that  is  mild  and  soft,  but  has  a  terrific  "kick." 

Besides  the  word  "Velvet,"  a  number  of  students' 
names  were  engraved  on  the  cup,  and  no  one  whose 
name  was  not  there  could  ask  the  proprietor  to  show 
the  cup. 

The  marked  tables  were  two  round  tables  on  which 
names  of  the  frequenters  of  the  place  had  been  cut  in 
the  hard  wood.  One  table  had  been  filled  with  six 


A  Fresh  Council.  67 

hundred  and  seventy-five  names  and  was  suspended 
against  the  wall,  where  it  would  revolve,  and  the  other 
tables  were  fast  filling  up. 

Merriwell  laughed  at  Ditson's  statement. 

"I  don't  see  as  it  is  such  a  wonderful  thing  for  & 
soph  to  get  his  name  on  one  of  those  tables,"  he  said. 
"If  you  had  said  that  Browning's  name  was  on  the  cup, 
it  would  have  seemed  a  matter  of  some  consequence." 

"It  may  be,  for  all  I  know.  Sophs  are  not  in  the 
habit  of  telling  us  everything.  Steer  clear  of  Brown- 
ing, Merry,  old  man." 

"Thanks  again!  You  have  made  me  so  nervous 
that  I  think  I  will  take  your  advice." 

"That's  right,  my  boy— that's  right,"  nodded  Bit- 
son,  swelling  with  importance.  "Always  listen  to  your 
uncle,  my  lad,  and  you  will  never  go  wrong." 

The  other  lads  seemed  rather  disappointed,  but  Mer- 
riwell said  nothing  more  of  his  scheme  to  get  a  "horse" 
on  Browning — that  is,  he  said  nothing  more  that  night. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A   SURPRISE. 

It  was  singular  how  quickly  Browning  learned  that 
Merriwell  had  contemplated  working  a  job  on  him.  It 
seemed  an  absolute  certainty  that  some  one  of  the 
party  in  Merriwell's  room  had  gone  forth  and 
"blowed."  Who  had  done  so  was  a  question. 

As  was  the  most  natural  thing,  considering  his  dis- 
like for  the  fellow,  Frank  felt  that  Roll  Ditson  was 
the  telltale.  Of  this  he  had  no  proof,  however,  and  he 
was  too  just  to  openly  condemn  a  man  without  proof. 

It  was  certain  that  Browning  had  learned  all  about 
it,  for  he  sent  word  to  Merriwell  to  go  slow.  At  the 
same  time,  in  all  public  places  he  avowed  the  utmost 
contempt  and  disregard  for  the  freshman  who  hac 
done  up  Diamond. 

"The  boy  is  altogether  too  new,"  Browning  sneered. 
"What  he  needs  is  polishing  off,  and  he  is  bound  tc 
get  it." 

Now,  Frank  had  won  admiration  from  the  sopho- 
mores, and  there  were  one  or  two  who  did  not  like 
Browning  and  would  have  given  not  a  little  to  have 
seen  him  beaten  at  anything. 


A  Surprise.  69 

This  being  the  case,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Merri- 
well  received  an  anonymous  note  warning  him  to  keep 
in  his  room  on  a  certain  evening  and  look  out  for 
squalls. 

Frank  knew  Browning  would  not  come  alone,  and 
he  determined  to  be  prepared.  With  this  object  in 
view,  he  gathered  ten  stout  freshmen  and  had  them 
come  to  his  room  early  on  the  evening  mentioned. 

The  curtains  were  drawn  closely,  and  the  arrivals 
were  astonished  to  see  a  lot  of  Indian  toggery  piled  up 
on  tables  and  chairs,  imitation  buckskin  suits,  feath- 
ered headdresses,  bows,  arrows,,  tomahawks,  and  so 
forth.  On  Merriwell's  table  was  a  full  supply  of  In- 
dian red  grease  paint. 

"Oh,  say,"  gasped  Ned  Stover,  his  eyes  bulging, 
"what's  this — a  powwow  outfit?" 

"This  is  the  result  of  the  idea  you  fellows  gave  me 
when  you  spoke  of  capturing  scalps  the  other  even- 
ing," laughed  Frank.  "Select  your  suits,  gentlemen, 
and  proceed  to  make  up." 

"Makeup?     What  for?" 

"Just  you  make  up,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  for  after- 
ward." 

Merriwell's  influence  was  sufficient  to  induce  them  to 
obey,  and  he  aided  them  in  the  work. 

"Blate  grazes — I  mean  great  blazes !"  chuckel  Rattle- 
ton,  as  he  rubbed  the  war  paint  on  his  face.  "Won't 


•jo  A  Surprise. 

we  make  a  bloodthirsty  gang  of  roble  ned  men — er, 
noble  red  men !" 

The  boys  aided  each  other,  and  Frank  assisted  them 
all. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  make  up,  Merry?*'  asked 
Bandy  Robinson. 

"Not  now.     I  am  to  be  the  decoy." 

"The  decoy?     What's  in  the  wind,  anyway?" 

"Well,  I  have  it  pretty  straight  that  some  sophs, 
led  by  Browning,  are  coming  to  take  me  out  for  an 
airing  to-night." 

"Eh?     Take  you  out?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he  means  to  take  them  in,"  laughed  Rattleton, 
arranging  a  war  bonnet  on  his  head. 

"That's  just  it,"  nodded  Frank.  "If  they  come 
here,  we'll  be  ready  for  them.  If  they  do  not  come, 
we'll  call  on  Mr.  Browning." 

"I'm  afraid  this  is  rather  a-serious  matter,"  said  Dis- 
mal Jones. 

"Oh,  don't  begin  to  croak!"  cried  Rattleton.  "Mer- 
riwell  knows  his  business.  Hurry  up  with  your  make- 
up. Can't  tell  how  early  the  sophs  will  call." 

So  the  boys  hastened. to  complete  their  disguise,  and 
a  decidedly  savage-looking  band  they  were  when  all 
was  completed.  Frank  surveyed  them  with  satisfac- 
tion. 


A  Surprise.  71 

"Ah !  my  bold  warriors!"  he  cried.  "I  am  proud  of 
you.  To-night — to-night  we  deal  the  enemy  a  terrible 
and  deadly  blow." 

"We're  ready  to  hear  what  the  layout  is,"  eagerly 
said  Ned  Stover. 

"Well,  you  are  to  retire  to  Robinson's  room,  which 
is  exactly  opposite  this,  and  wait.  I  have  two  fellows 
outside  to  let  me  know  when  the  enemy  approaches  and 
to  take  a  hand  in  the  game  at  the  right  time.  When  I 
whistle  you  are  to  make  your  way  into  this  room  if  you 
have  to  break  down  the  door.  That's  all." 

The  boys  retired  to  Robinson's  room,  where  they 
smoked  and  waited  with  great  impatience. 

Frank  sat  down  and  coolly  went  at  his  studies. 

Nearly  an  hour  passed,  and  then  there  was  a  sound 
of  wheels  outside.  The  sound  stopped  before  the  door. 

A  few  moments  later  some  one  ascended  the  stairs 
and  there  came  a  knock  on  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  called  Frank. 

The  door  opened,  and  Roll  Ditson  sauntered  in, 
smoking  the  inevitable  cigarette. 

"Hello,  Merry!"  he  cried,  looking  around.  "All 
alone?" 

"All  alone,  Ditson,"  yawned  Frank.  "It's  beastly 
stupid  but  I  am  having  a  hard  pull  at  my  studies." 

"Better  come  out  with  me  and  get  a  little  air.  It's 
stuffy  here." 


72  A  Surprise. 

"Oh,  you'll  have  to  excuse  me  to-night  I  don't 
believe  I'll  go  out." 

Ditson  urged,  but  Frank  persisted  in  refusing.  RoH 
stopped  near  a  table  and  picked  up  a  stick  of  grease 
paint. 

"Hello!  what's  this?"  he  exclaimed.  "Aren't  going 
into  amateur  theatricals,  are  you,  Merry?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  smiled  Frank.  "I  may  do  a 
turn." 

Ditson  looked  at  Merriwell  curiously,  as  if  in  doubt 
concerning  his  sincerity,  but  Frank  simply  continued 
to  smile. 

"Indian  red,"  said  Roll,  reading  the  lettering  on  the 
stick.  "You  don't  mean  to  become  a  big  chief,  do 
you?" 

"Perhaps  so." 

"Well,  you  are  pretty  sure  to  become  a  big  chie: 
here  at  Yale,  old  man,"  said  Ditson,  with  apparent  ear- 
nestness. "You  will  be  a  leader  here  some  day." 

"Think  so?" 

"Oh,  I  am  dead  sure  of  it" 

"Thank  you." 

Merriwell  yawned  again. 

"Oh,  come  on!"  Ditson  urged.  "You're  stupid 
from  digging  over  those  books.  Come  out  and  have 
a  walk." 

"No." 


A  Surprise.  73 

"You  won't?" 

"You'll  have  to  excuse  me  to-night,  Ditson." 

"All  right.  But  say,  I  came  near  forgetting  some- 
thing. As  I  came  in,  there  was  a  fellow  down  to  the 
door  who  said  he  wanted  to  see  you." 

"A  fellow?     Who  was  it?" 

"Don't  know.     Some  of  the  students,  I  think." 

"Oh,  if  that  is  the  case,  go  down  and  bring  him  up, 
Ditson.  You  can  open  the  door  and  let  him  in  with- 
out disturbing  Mrs.  Harrington." 

"All  right,"  nodded  Roll.  "Sorry  you  won't  come 
out,  old  fel.  You'll  get  grouchy.  Good-night" 

"Good-night." 

Ditson  went  out,  and  Frank  heard  him  descending 
the  stairs. 

"There'll  be  music  in  the  air,"  muttered  Merriwell 
as  he  again  lay  back  in  his  chair,  elevating  his  feet  tc 
the  top  of  the  table.  "But  the  surprisers  are  liable  to 
be  surprised." 

He  heard  the  front  door  creak.  Often  he  wondered 
why  Mrs.  Harrington  did  not  grease  the  hinges. 

Frank  had  good  ears,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he 
was  sure  he  could  hear  rustlings  and  whisperings  in 
the  hall.  Then  one  person  seemed  to  ascend  the  stairs 
very  slowly,  but  he  made  out  that  there  were  two  or 
three  others  with  that  one,  the  others  stepping  as  softly 
as  possible. 


74  A  Surprise. 

Merriwell  remained  cool  and  apparently  quite  un- 
aware that  anything  unusual  was  taking  place. 

The  footsteps  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs  and  ad- 
vanced to  the  door,  on  which  there  was  a  distinct 
knock. 

"Come  in !"  Frank  once  more  called. 

The  door  was  promptly  flung  open,  and  into  the 
room  strode  a  person  who  was  wrapped  in  a  big  over- 
coat and  wore  a  wide-brimmed  hat  slouched  over  his 
eyes.  His  face  nearly  to  his  eyes  was  covered  with 
bushy  whiskers. 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  Frank,  as  if  surprised.  "Who 
are  you  ?" 

"  'Sh !"  hissed  the  stranger,  with  a  warning  gesture. 
"Are  we  alone?" 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  your  roommate?" 

"Out." 

The  fellow  whistled  sharply,  and  the  next  minute 
four  masked  lads  appeared  at  the  door  and  leaped  into 
the  room.  One  of  them  slammed  the  door  shut  and 
the  others  sprang  at  Frank. 

Merriwell  flung  a  book  at  the  first  one,  and  it  struck 
the  fellow's  mask,  tearing  it  from  his  face. 

The  well-known  countenance  of  Bruce  Browning 
was  exposed ! 

"Good-evening,  Browning!"  cheerfully    called    the 


A  Surprise.  75 

lively  freshman  as  he  darted  behind  the  table.  "I  have 
been  expecting  a  call  from  you." 

"Grab  him!"  directed  Browning.  "Get  hold  of 
him!" 

Frank  was  on  the  point  of  uttering  a  whistle,  but  it 
was  not  required,  for  the  whistle  that  came  from  the 
lips  of  the  disguised  fellow  had  served  as  a  signal  to  the 
painted  braves. 

There  was  a  bang  at  the  door,  which  flew  open  as  if 
assaulted  by  a  catapault,  and  into  the  room  poured  the 
disguised  freshmen. 

The  Indians  leaped  upon  the  masked  sophomores, 
and  for  a  short  time  a  very  sharp  struggle  took  place. 

Bruce  Browning  did  his  best  to  escape  from  the 
room,  but  three  of  the  savages  laid  hold  of  him,  and  he 
was  finally  subdued. 

"Out  of  the  house  with  them  as  soon  as  possible," 
ordered  Frank.  "Come  on,  two  or  three  of  you.  We 
must  nail  the  hack  and  the  fellows  outside." 

Down  to  the  door  he  led  the  way. 

Mrs.  Harrington  came  out  into  the  hall,  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  painted  faces,  uttered  a  wild  shriek  of 
terror,  and  dodged  back,  slamming  the  door. 

"All  ready?"  said  Frank  as  he  prepared  to  fling 
open  the  front  door. 

"All  ready!"  panted  Harry  Rattleton,  close  behind 
him. 


76  A  Surprise. 

"Don't  let  anybody  get  away,"  warned  Merriwell. 
"I  will  look  after  the  driver." 

"Go  ahead." 

Creak !  open  swung  the  door,  and  out  into  the  night 
Jeaped  a  youth  who  seemed  to  be  hotly  pursued  by  four 
painted  and  bloodthirsty-appearing  redskins. 

The  hack  was  standing  exactly  as  Frank  expected  it 
would  be,  and  he  was  on  the  box  with  the  driver  at 
two  springs. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  asserted.  "We've  got  the  fel- 
low up  there,  though  he  did  kick  up  some.  A  part  of 
our  gang  was  rigged  up  like  Indians,  and  they  nipped 
him  all  right." 

"It's  the  divil's  own  set  ye  shtudints  are !"  muttered 
the  driver.  "Av  ye  hurry,  Oi'll  sthay  to  take  him 
away;  but  Oi'll  not  remain  here  long,  fer  it's  th'  cops 
will  be  down  on  us  roight  away." 

"We'll  get  away  ahead  of  the  cops,  don't  fear  that," 
declared  Frank.  "They're  bringing  him  downstairs 
now.  We  had  to  take  two  or  three  others  with  him ; 
but  we'll  not  bother  with  them  long." 

"Arrah !  th'  poor  freshman !"  said  the  driver.  "Oi'd 
not  loike  to  be  in  his  place  this  noight !" 

He  was  completely  fooled,  thinking  all  the  time  that 
Frank  was  one  of  the  party  he  had  brought  there  to 
capture  the  freshman. 

As  they  rushed  out  Frank  had  seen  a  fellow  standing 


A  Surprise.  77 

near  the  open  door  of  the  hack,  and  that  fellow  had 
promptly  taken  to  flight  at  sight  of  the  Indians,  two  of 
whom  pursued  him  hotly. 

Frank  hoped  they  would  be  able  to  overtake  the  fugi- 
tive, for  if  one  of  the  party  escaped  he  would  report 
to  the  sophs,  who  were  bound  to  make  a  big  hustle  to 
rescue  their  captured  comrades. 

The  disguised  freshmen  came  downstairs,  bearing 
their  captives,  who  were  swiftly  thrust  into  the  hack, 
which  was  a  big,  roomy,  old-fashioned  affair. 

As  many  of  the  freshmen  as  could  do  so  piled  inside 
and  upon  the  hack,  and  then  Frank  gave  the  signal,  the 
driver  whipped  up  his  horse  and  away  they  went. 

"East  Rock,"  said  Frank. 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  the  driver.  "Thot's  not  pwhere 
ye  wur  goin'  in  th'  firrust  place." 

"We  have  changed  the  programme.  East  Rock  is 
where  we  are  bound  for  now." 

"All  roight,  me  b'y." 

The  triumphant  freshmen  felt  like  shouting  and 
singing  in  jubilant  mood.  Indeed,  Rattleton  could 
not  refrain  from  "letting  off  steam,"  as  he  called  it, 
and  he  gave  one  wild  howl  of  triumph  that  made  the 
streets  echo : 

"  'Umpty-eight !     'Umpty-eight !" 

"Break  it  off!"  sharply  commanded  Frank.  "Want 
to  let  the  sophs  know  we're  up  to  something?" 


78  A  Surprise. 

"I  don't  care." 

"They  might  raise  a  rescue  party  and  follow  us." 

"But  they  wouldn't  frop  any  chost — I  mean  chop 
any  frost  with  us." 

"Pwhat's  thot?"  came  suspiciously  from  the  driver. 
"An'  is  it  not  softmores  ye  are  yersilves  ?" 

"Of  course  we  are,"  returned  Harry,  instantly. 

"Thin  pwhat  fer  do  ye  yell  fer  'Umpty-eight  ?" 

"Oh,  it's  a  way  we  have.  Don't  mind  it,  but  keep 
on  driving  if  you  want  to  retain  your  scalp,  paleface. 
We  are  mighty  bad  Injuns !" 

The  driver  knew  how  to  pick  out  the  darkest  and 
most  deserted  streets.  By  the  time  the  outskirts  of  the 
city  were  reached  the  freshmen  were  bubbling  over. 

Frank  Merriwell  improvised  a  stanza  of  a  song,  and 
in  a  few  moments  the  entire  band  caught  the  words 
and  the  tune.  As  the  hack  rolled  along  toward  East 
Rock  the  freshmen  sang: 

"We  belong  to  good  old  'Umpty-eight, 
For  she's  a  corker,  sure  as  fate,  sure  as  fate. 
We  have  met  the  sophomores, 
And  they're  feeling  awful  sore ; 
So  hurrah  for  good  old  'Umpty-eight !  'Umpty-eight !" 

"Begobs!  ye're  th'  quarest  gang  av  softmores  Oi  iver 
saw !"  cried  the  driver.  "An'  it's  not  wan  av  yez  Oi 
remimber  takin'  up  to  th'  freshman's  boording  house." 

"We  have  changed,"  explained  Ned  Stover. 


A  Surprise.  79 

"And  it's  the  first  change  I  have  seen  for  a  week," 
declared  Harry  Rattleton.  "I'm  waiting  to  hear  from 
the  governor." 

"Howld  on,"  said  the  driver.  "Oi  want  to  see  the 
mon  thot  hired  me." 

He  threatened  to  pull  up,  but  Frank  caught  the  whip 
and  cracked  it  over  the  horses. 

"What  do  you  want  ?"  asked  Merriwell. 

"Oi  want  me  pay." 

Now,  Frank  knew  well  enough  that  the  driver  had 
received  his  pay  in  advance,  but  he  was  beginning  to 
suspect  that  the  party  that  hired  him  had  come  to  grief, 
and  so  he  was  for  exacting  an  extra  payment  from  the 
victors. 

"Look  here,  driver,"  said  Frank,  sternly,  "I  want 
your  number." 

"Pwhat  fer?" 

"In  case  it  may  appear  later  on  that  you  have  re- 
ceived money  at  two  separate  and  distinct  times  for 
doing  the  same  piece  of  work." 

"Get  oop!"  yelled  the  driver.  "It's  ownly  foolin* 
Oi  wur." 

So  the  hack  rolled  on  its  way,  with  the  happy  fresh- 
men smoking  and  singing,  while  the  captive  sophs 
ground  their  teeth  and  railed  at  the  bitter  luck. 

Inside  the  hack  Dismal  Jones,  most  hideously  be- 
daubed, was  smoking  a  cigarette  and  brandishing  a 


8o  A  Surprise. 

wooden  tomahawk  at  the  same  time,  while  he  sat 
astride  of  Bruce  Browning,  who  was  on  the  floor. 

"This  is  a  sad  and  solemn  occasion,  paleface," 
croaked  Dismal.  "You  have  driven  the  noble  red  man 
from  his  ancestral  halls,  which  were  the  dim  aisles  of 
he  mighty  forests;  you  have  pushed  him  across  the 
plains,  and  you  have  tried  to  crowd  him  off  the  earth 
into  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Ugh !  You  have  pursued  him 
with  deadly  firearms  and  still  more  deadly  fire  water. 
You  have  been  relentless  in  your  hatred  and  your 
greed.  You  have  even  been  so  unreasonable  that 
whenever  a  poor  red  man  has  secured  a  few  paleface 
scalps  as  trophies  to  hang  in  his  wigwam  you  have 
taken  your  trusty  rifles  and  gone  forth  with  great  fury 
and  shot  the  poor  Indian  full  of  hard  bullets.  You 
have  done  heap  many  things  that  you  would  not  have 
done  if  you  had  not  done  so.  But  now,  poor,  shiv- 
ering dog  of  a  paleface,  the  injured  red  man  has  arisen 
at  last  in  his  might.  If  we  are  to  perish,  we  are  to 
perish ;  but  before  we  perish,  we  will  enjoy  the  gentle 
pleasure  of  roasting  a  few  white  men  at  the  stake. 
Ugh !  We  have  held  a  council  of  war,  we  have  exca- 
vated the  hatchet,  we  have  smashed  the  pipe  of  peace 
to  flinders,  or  something  of  the  sort,  and  have  struck 
out  upon  the  war  trail." 

"You  act  as  if  you  had  struck  out,"  growled  one  of 
the  captives. 


A  Surprise.  81 

"That's  because  he  has  had  a  few  balls,"  gurgled 
Browning.  "Talk  about  being  burned  at  the  stake! 
That's  not  torture  after  being  obliged  to  inhale  his 
breath.  My  kingdom  for  some  chloroform!  Will 
somebody  please  hit  me  on  the  head  with  a  trip  hammer 
and  put  me  out  of  my  misery  ?" 

"Whither  art  thou  bearing  us,  great  chief?"  asked 
one  of  the  captives. 

"We  will  bare  you  out  yonder,"  answered  Dismal. 
"At  the  stake  you  shall  stand  arrayed  in  the  garments 
nature  provided  for  you." 

"I  don't  care  for  tea,"  murmured  Browning — "not 
even  for  repartee." 

"This  is  worse  than  being  roasted  at  the  stake !"  mut- 
tered a  soph  in  a  corner.  "It  is  severe  punishment." 

"Help!"  cried  Dismal.  "Somebody  take  me  out! 
I  can't  get  ahead  of  these  miserable  palefaces." 

"You'll  get  a  head  if  I  ever  find  a  good  chance  to 
give  it  to  you,"  declared  the  voice  of  Puss  Parker  from 
the  darkness. 

Outside  the  painted  savages  were  roaring : 

"Farewell !  farewell !  farewell,  my  fairy  fay ! 
Oh,  I'm  off  to  Louisiana 
For  to  see  my  Susy  Anna, 
Singing  'Polly-wolly-woodle'  all   the  day." 

And  thus  the  captured  sophomores  were  borne  in 
triumph  out  to  East  Rock,  and  as  they  were  the  ones 


82  A  Surprise. 

who  engaged  the  hack,  they  paid  for  their  own  con- 
veyance. 

Never  before  had  anything  like  it  happened  at  Yale 
It  was  an  event  that  was  bound  to  go  down  in  history 
as  the  most  audacious  and  daring  piece  of  work  ever 
successfully  carried  through  by  freshmen  in  that  col- 
lege. 

And  Frank  Merriwell  was  to  receive  the  credit  of 
being  the  originator  of  the  scheme  and  the  general  who 
carried  it  out  successfully. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  "ROAST"  AT  EAST  ROCK. 

A  strange  and  remarkable  scene  was  being  enacted 
in  the  peaceable  and  civilized  State  of  Connecticut — a 
scene  which  must  have  startled  an  accidental  observer 
and  caused  him  to  fancy  for  a  moment  the  hand  of  time 
had  turned  back  two  centuries. 

Near  a  bright  fire  that  was  burning  on  the  ground 
squatted  a  band  of  hideously-painted  fellows  who 
seemed  to  be  redskins,  while  close  at  hand,  bound  and 
helpless,  were  a  number  of  palefaces,  plainly  the  cap- 
tives of  the  savages. 

That  a  council  of  war  was  taking  place  seemed  ap- 
parent. And  still  the  savages  seemed  waiting  for 
something. 

At  length,  out  of  the  darkness  advanced  a  tall,  well- 
built  warrior,  the  trailing  plumes  of  whose  war  bonnet 
reached  quite  to  the  ground.  If  anything,  this  fellow 
was  more  hideously  painted  than  any  of  the  others,  and 
there  was  an  air  of  distinction  about  him  that  pro- 
claimed him  a  great  chief. 

"Ugh !"  he  grunted.     "I  am  here." 

The  savages  arose,  and  one  of  them  said : 


84  The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

"Fellow  warriors,  the  mighty  chief  Fale-in-his- 
Hoce — I  mean  Hole-in-his-Face — has  arrived." 

Then  a  wild  yell  of  greeting  went  up  to  the  twin- 
kling stars,  and  every  savage  brandished  a  tomahawk 
.scalping  knife,  or  some  other  kind  of  weapon. 

"Brothers,"  said  Hole-in-his-Face,  "I  see  that  I  am 
welcome  in  your  midst,  as  any  up-to-date  country 
newspaper  reporter  would  say.  You  have  received  me 
with  great  eclat — excuse  my  French;  I  was  educated 
abroad — in  New  Jersey." 

"Go  back  to  Princeton !"  cried  one  of  the  captives. 

"Fellow  warriors,"  continued  Hole-in-his-Face, 
without  noticing  the  interruption,  "I  am  heap  much 
proud  to  be  with  you  on  this  momentous  occasion." 

"Yah !  yah !  yah !"  yelled  the  savages. 

"And  now,"  the  chief  went  on,  "if  you  will  pro- 
ceed to  squat  on  your  haunches  I  will  orate  a  trifle." 

Once  more  the  redskins  sat  down  on  the  ground,  anc 
then  the  late  arrival  struck  an  attitude  and  began  his 
oration : 

"Warriors  of  my  people,  why  are  we  assembled  to- 
gether to-night?" 

"Because  we  couldn't  assemble  apart,"  murmured  a 
voice. 

"We  are  assembled  to  avenge  our  wrongs  upon  the 
hated  paleface,"  the  chief  declared.  "It  was  long  ago 
that  the  proud  and  haughty  paleface  got  the  bulge  on 


The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock.  85 

the  led  man,  and  we  have  not  been  in  the  game  to  any 
great  extent  since  then.  Every  time  we  have  held  two 
pairs  he  has  come  in  with  one  pair  of  sixes  or  a  Win- 
chester and  raked  the  pot.  He  has  not  given  us  any 
kind  of  a  show  for  our  white  alley.  Whenever  we 
seemed  to  be  getting  along  fairly  well  and  doing  a  little 
something,  he  has  wrung  in  a  cold  deck  on  us  and  then 
shot  us  full  of  air  holes,  purely  for  the  purpose  of  ven- 
tilation in  case  we  objected.  Warriors,  we  have  grown 
tired  of  being  soaked  in  the  neck." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  a  savage,  "unless  we  are 
soaked  in  the  neck  with  fire  water." 

"At  last,"  shouted  the  orator — "at  last  we  have 
arisen  in  our  wrath  and  our  war  paint  and  we  are  out 
lor  scalps.  We  have  decided  that  the  joy  of  the  red 
man  is  fleeting.  To-night  a  flush  mantles  your  dark 
cheeks,  but  to-morrow  it  will  be  a  bobtail  flush.  What 
have  we  to  live  for  but  vengeance  on  the  white  man 
and  a  little  booze  now  and  then?  Nothing!  Our 
squaws  once  were  beautiful  as  the  wild  flowers  of  the 
prairie,  but  now  the  prize  beauty  of  our  tribe  is  Malt 
Extract  Maria,  whose  nose  is  out  of  joint,  whose  eyes 
are  skewed,  whose  teeth  are  covered  with  fine-cut  to- 
bacco, and  who  lost  one  of  her  ears  last  week  by  acci- 
dentally getting  it  into  the  mouth  of  her  husband. 

"My  brothers,  we  are  not  built  to  weep.  It  is  not 
the  way  of  the  noble  red  man.  A  few  more  summers 


86  The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

and  we  will  be  no  more.  We  will  have  kicked  the  stuf- 
fing out  of  the  bucket  and  wended  our  way  up  the 
golden  stair.  But  before  we  cough  up  the  ghost  it  be- 
hooves us  to  strike  one  last  blow  at  the  hated  paleface. 
When  we  get  a  chance  at  a  paleface  it  is  our  duty  to  do 
him,  and  do  him  bad.  Are  you  on  ? 

"We  have  been  successful  in  capturing  a  few  of  our 
hated  foes,  and  they  are  bound  and  helpless  near  at 
hand.  Shall  they  be  fricasseed,  broiled,  fried,  or 
made  into  a  potpie?  That  is  the  question  before  the 
meeting,  and  I  am  ready  to  listen  to  others.  Let  us 
hear  from  Squint-eyed  Sausageface." 

"It  doesn't  make  a  dit  of  bifference — I  mean  a  bit  of 
difference  to  me  how  I  have  my  paleface  cooked,"  said 
the  one  indicated  as  Squint-eyed  Sausageface.  "Per- 
haps it  would  be  well  enough  to  cook  them  at  the 
stake." 

"I  think  that  would  be  the  proper  mode,"  gravely 
declared  another  warrior;  "for  I  have  heard  that  they 
boast  they  are  hot  stuff.  They  should  not  boast  in 
vain." 

"Warriors,"  said  Hole-in-his-Face,  "you  have  heard. 
What  have  you  to  say  ?" 

"So  mote  it  be,"  came  solemnly  from  one. 

"Yah!  yah!  yah!"  yelled  the  others. 

"That  settles  it,  as  the  sugar  remarked  to  the  egg 
dropped  into  the  coffee.  Prepare  the  torture  stakes." 


The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock.  87 

There  was  a  great  bustle,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
stakes  were  prepared  and  driven  into  the  ground,  one 
of  the  savages  hammering  them  down  with  a  huge 
stick  of  wood. 

Then  the  captives  were  bound  to  the  stakes  and  a  lot 
of  brush  was  brought  and  piled  about  their  feet. 

Some  of  the  sophs  actually  looked  scared,  but  Brown- 
ing kept  up  a  continual  fire  of  sarcastic  remarks. 

"Ugh!"  grunted  Hole-in-his-Face.  "This  paleface 
talks  heap  much.  Remove  his  outer  garments,  so  the 
fire  may  reach  his  flesh  without  delay." 

Then  Browning  was  held  and  his  clothes  were 
stripped  off  till  he  stood  in  his  under  garments,  bare- 
footed, bareheaded,  and  still  defiant. 

"Oh,  say!"  he  muttered,  "won't  there  be  an  awful 
hour  of  reckoning!  Merriwell  will  regret  the  day  he 
came  to  Yale !" 

At  this  Hole-in-his-Face  laughed  heartily,  and 
Browning  cried : 

"Oh,  I  know  you,  Merriwell !  You  can't  fool  me, 
though  you  have  got  the  best  makeup  of  them  all." 

When  everything  was  ready,  one  of  the  savages 
actually  touched  a  match  to  the  various  piles  of  brush 
about  the  feet  of  the  unfortunate  sophomores. 

As  the  tiny  flames  leaped  up  the  painted  band  joined 
in  a  wild  war  dance  about  the  stakes,  flourishing  their 
weapons  and  whooping  as  if  they  were  real  Indians. 


88  The  ''Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

Some  of  their  postures  and  steps  were  exact  imitations 
of  the  poses  and  steps  taken  by  savages  in  a  war  dance 

"Say,  confound  you  fool  freshmen!"  howled  one  of 
the  captives.  "This  fire  is  getting  hot!  Do  yo1! 
really  mean  to  roast  us  ?" 

"Yah !  yah !  yah !     Hough !  hough !  hough !" 

Round  and  round  the  stake  circled  the  disguised 
freshmen,  and  the  fire  kept  getting  higher  and  higher. 

Puss  Parker  fell  to  coughing  violently,  having 
sucked  down  a  large  quantity  of  smoke.  Some  of  the 
others  raved  and  some  begged.  But  still  the  wild 
dance  went  on. 

"Merciful  cats!"  gasped  Tad  Horner.  "I  believe 
they  actually  mean  to  roast  us !" 

"Sure  as  fate!"  agreed  another.  "They  won't  think 
to  put  out  the  fires  till  we  are  well  cooked,  if  they  do 
then !" 

"This  is  awful !"  gurgled  Parker.  "Browning,  can'* 
you  do  something?" 

"Well,  I  hardly  think  so,"  confessed  the  king  of  the 
sophomores.  "But  I  will  do  something  if  I  ever  get 
Dut  of  this  alive!  You  hear  me  murmur!" 

"Say !"  cried  Tad  Horner.  "I  can't  stand  this  much 
longer.  The  fire  is  beginning  to  roast  me." 

"It's  getting  warm,"  confessed  Parker.  "But  it 
seems  to  keep  burning  around  the  outside  edge." 

"Keep  cool,"  advised  Browning. 


The  ' 'Roast"  at  East  Rock.  89 

"What's  that?"  yelled  Horner.  "Who  said  'keep 
cool?'  Oh,  say!  That's  too  much!" 

"Just  look  at  the  wood,"  directed  the  king  of  the 
sophomores.  "You  will  notice  that  all  the  wood  about 
our  feet  is  water  soaked,  and  there's  only  a  little  dry 
wood  out  around  the  edges.  That's  all  that  is  burn- 
ing." 

This  they  soon  saw  was  true,  and  it  gave  them  great 
relief,  for  it  had  begun  to  seem  that  the  crazy  fresh- 
men actually  meant  to  roast  them. 

At  the  very  moment  when  the  uproar  was  at  its 
height  there  came  a  sudden  loud  cry,  like  a  signal,  and 
out  of  the  darkness  rushed  at  least  twenty  lads. 

They  were  sophomores  who  had  somehow  followed 
them  out  there  to  East  Rock,  having  been  aroused  and 
told  of  the  capture  of  Browning  and  his  mates  by  the 
soph  who  escaped. 

One  fellow  on  a  bicycle  had  followed  them  till  he  felt 
sure  of  their  destination,  and  then  he  had  turned  back 
and  told  the  others,  who  hastily  secured  teams  and  flew 
to  the  rescue. 

"  'Umpty-seven !  'Umpty-seven !  'Rah,  'rah!  'rah!' 
yelled  the  rescuers  as  they  charged  upon  the  freshmen, 

"  'Umpty-eight !  'Umpty-eight !  'Rah !  'rah !  'rah !" 
howled  the  painted  lads  in  return. 

Then  for  a  few  moments  there  was  a  pitched  battle. 

The  battle  did  not  last  long,  for  the  freshmen  saw 


90  The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

they  were  outnumbered,  and  at  a  signal  from  their 
leader  they  broke  away  and  took  to  their  heels. 

By  rare  good  luck  every  man  was  able  to  get  away, 
for,  not  knowing  anything  about  the  water-soaked 
wood  piled  about  the  feet  of  the  captives,  the  rescuers 
nearly  all  stopped  to  scatter  the  burning  brush. 

"Oh,  say!"  grated  Browning,  as  he  was  released. 
"But  this  means  gore  and  bloodshed!  We'll  never 
rest  till  we  have  squared  for  this  roast,  and  we  will 
square  with  interest !  Merriwell's  life  will  be  one  long, 
lingering  torture  from  this  night  onward !" 

"What's  all  this  racket  and  cheering  ?"  asked  one  of 
the  rescuers.  "Listen,  fellows !  By  Jove !  it  seems  to 
come  from  the  place  where  we  left  our  carriages !" 

"That's  what  it  does,  and  it's  the  freshman  yell," 
cried  another.  "Come  on,  fellows !  If  we  don't  get  a 
move  on  we  may  have  to  walk  back." 

They  started  on  a  run,  but  when  they  arrived  at  the 
place  where  the  teams  had  been  left  not  a  team  was 
there. 

The  freshmen  had  captured  the  teams,  drivers  and 
all,  together  with  the  hack,  and  far  along  the  road 
toward  the  city  could  be  heard  a  cheering,  singing 
crowd.  As  the  disgusted  and  furious  sophs  stood  and 
listened  the  singing  and  cheering  grew  fainter  and 
fainter. 

"Fellows,"  said  Chop  Harding,  "I  am  sorry  to  leave 


The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock.  91 

Yale,  but  I  am  certain  to  be  hanged  for  murder.  After 
this,  whenever  I  see  a  freshman  I  shall  kill  him  in- 
stantly." 

It  was  a  doleful  and  weary  crowd  of  sophs  that  came 
filing  back  into  town  and  sneaked  to  their  rooms  that 
night. 

Of  course  the  sophs  would  have  given  a  great  deal 
could  they  have  kept  the  story  quiet,  but  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  it  seemed  that  every  student  in  the 
college  knew  all  about  it. 

The  juniors  laughed  and  chaffed  the  sophomores, 
who  were  sullen  and  sulky  and  who  muttered  much 
about  getting  even. 

The  freshmen  were  jubilant.  They  were  on  top  for 
the  time,  and  they  all  knew  they  might  not  have  long  to 
crow,  so  they  did  all  the  crowing  they  could  in  a  short 
time. 

And  still  nobody  seemed  to  know  just  who  was  con- 
cerned in  the  affair,  save  that  Merriwell  and  Brown- 
ing must  have  been. 

When  Browning  was  questioned  he  was  so  blankly 
ignorant  of  everything  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  slept 
through  the  whole  affair.  He  had  a  way  of  turning 
every  question  off  with  another  question,  and  it  was 
soon  discovered  that  no  information  could  be  obtained 
from  him. 

Still  it  was  passed  from  lip  to  lip  that  the  great  and 


02  The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

jiighty  king  had  been  found  by  the  rescuers,  stripped 
10  his  underclothes,  and  tied  to  a  stake,  while  the  smoke 
arose  thickly  around  him  and  nearly  choked  him. 

Some  one  suggested  that  Browning's  complexion 
seemed  to  have  changed  in  a  remarkable  manner,  and 
then  the  students  fell  to  asking  him  if  he  really  enjoyed 
a  smoke. 

Browning  seemed  subdued ;  but  those  who  knew  him 
best  were  telling  everybody  to  hold  on  and  see  what 
would  happen. 

"This  is  just  the  beginning,"  they  said. 

However,  several  days  passed  and  still  nothing  oc- 
curred. It  began  to  look  as  if  the  sophs  had  decided 
that  they  were  outgeneraled  and  were  willing  to  let  the 
matter  drop. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  not  deceived.  He  knew  the 
sophs  were  keeping  still  in  order  to  deceive  the  fresh- 
men into  a  belief  that  there  was  no  danger,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  warn  all  his  friends  to  "watch  out." 

In  the  meantime  Diamond  had  recovered  and  was  in 
evidence  among  the  freshmen.  It  was  said  that  he 
went  down  to  Billy's,  a  favorite  freshman  resort,  and 
spent  money  liberally  there  almost  every  night. 

The  result  of  this  soon  became  apparent.  Diamond 
was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  hangers-on  who  seemed 
to  regard  him  as  a  leader.  He  was  working  for  popu- 
larity, and  he  was  obtaining  it  in  a  certain  way. 


The  ' 'Roast"  at  East  Rock.  95 

Now,  Frank  Merriwell  was  no  less  generous  than 
Jack  Diamond,  but  he  would  not  drink  liquor  of  any 
kind — he  would  not  touch  beer.  It  did  not  take  him 
long  to  discover  that  this  peculiarity  caused  many  of 
the  students  to  regard  him  with  scorn.  He  was  called 
the  Good  Templar  and  was  often  derisively  addressed 
as  Worthy  Chief. 

The  very  ones  who  were  first  to  apply  the  name  in 
derision  afterward  came  to  call  him  Worthy  Chief  in 
sincere  admiration. 

Frank  went  around  to  Billy's  occasionally,  and  al- 
though he  would  not  drink,  he  treated  frequently,  pay- 
ing for  anything  his  companions  wanted  to  take,  from 
beer  to  champagne. 

One  evening  Frank,  Harry  and  Dismal  Jones  went 
into  Billy's  and  found  Diamond  and  a  large  crowd 
there.  Jack  had  been  drinking  something  stronger 
than  lemonade,  and  he  was  holding  forth  to  a  crowd 
of  eager  listeners. 

One  look  at  Diamond's  flushed  face  did  Merriwell 
take,  and  then  he  knew  the  fellow  was  open  for  any- 
thing. The  high  color  in  the  cheeks  of  the  Virginian 
was  a  danger  signal. 

Merriwell  and  his  two  friends  ordered  drinks,  Frank 
taking  ginger  ale.  Harry  and  Jones  lighted  cigarettes. 

Frank  examined  the  pictures  around  the  walls. 
There  were  ballet  dancers  who  were  standing  on  one 


94  The  "'Roast"  at  East  Rock. 

toe,  famous  trotters,  painted  pictures  of  celebrated 
fighting  cocks,  hunters  in  red  coats  leaping  five-barred 
fences,  and  so  forth. 

As  he  looked  over  the  pictures  he  became  aware  that 
Diamond  was  saying  something  that  was  intended  for 
his  ears. 

"Southerners  never  fight  with  their  fists/'  the  Vir- 
ginian declared.  "They  consider  it  brutal  and  beastly, 
and  so  they  do  not  learn  the  so-called  'art.'  They  are 
able  to  fight  with  some  other  weapons,  though.  There 
is  a  man  in  this  college  who  is  trying  to  be  a  high  cock 
of  the  walk,  but  he  will  never  succeed  till  he  shows  his 
right  by  meeting  me  face  to  face  with  weapons  of 
which  I  have  knowledge.  I  have  met  him  with  his 
weapons,  and  if  he  is  not  a  coward  he  will  give  me  a 
show.  But  I  think  he  is  a  coward  and  a  sneak,  and 
I " 

That  was  more  than  Frank  could  stand.  He  did  not 
pause  to  think  that  Diamond  had  been  drinking  and 
was  utterly  reckless,  but  he  whirled  and  advanced  till 
he  stood  squarely  in  front  of  the  Virginian. 

"I  presume,  Mr.  Diamond,  that  you  are  referring  to 
me,"  he  said,  coldly  and  steadily,  although  he  could  feel 
the  hot  blood  leaping  in  his  veins. 

Diamond  looked  up  insolently,  inhaled  a  whiff  of  his 
cigarette,  and  then  deliberately  blew  the  smoke  toward 
Frank. 


The  "Roast"  at  East  Rock.          95 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "I  presume  I  did  refer  to  you. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"You  called  me  a  coward  and  a  sneak." 

"Exactly,  sir." 

"If  I  had  not  already  left  the  marks  of  my  knuckles 
on  you  I  would  slap  your  face.  As  it  is,  I  will  simply 
— pull  your  nose !" 

And  Frank  did  so,  giving  Diamond's  nose  a  sharp 
tweak. 

Up  to  his  feet  leaped  the  Virginian,  his  face  white 
with  wrath.  He  picked  up  a  glass  of  champagne  as 
he  arose,  and  then  he  dashed  it  into  Frank's  face. 

In  a  twinkling  friends  were  between  them,  keeping 
them  apart. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   DUEL.     ' 

Merriwell  smiled  and  wiped  the  champagne  from 
his  face  with  a  white  silk  handkerchief.  The  pro- 
prietor bustled  in  and  threatened.  Diamond  quivered 
with  excitement. 

"There  will  be  no  further  trouble  here,"  calmly  said 
Frank.  "This  matter  must  be  settled  between  us — I 
could  see  that  plainly  enough.  It  was  just  as  well  to 
bring  it  to  a  head  at  once." 

"Lunder  and  thightning — I  mean  thunder  and  light- 
ning!" panted  Rattleton.  "He  won't  fight  you  again 
with  his  fists." 

"I  do  not  expect  him  to." 

"You'll  have  to  fight  with  rapiers,  sure!"  said  an- 
cther. 

"Merriwell,  you're  a  fool !" 

"Thank  you." 

"You  have  fallen  into  his  trap.  He  was  making 
that  talk  to  drive  you  to  do  just  what  you  did." 

"Well,  he  may  congratulate  himself  on  his  success." 

"Blamed    if    I    understand    you!     You  seem  cool 


The  Duel.  97 

enough,  and  still  you  act  as  if  you  actually  meant  to 
meet  him  with  deadly  weapons." 

"I  shall  meet  him  with  any  kind  of  weapons  he  may 
name." 

Roll  Ditson  came  forward. 

"Of  course  you  understand  that  I  have  no  feeling, 
Merry,  old  man,"  he  said;  "but  Diamond  has  chosen 
me  as  his  second  once  more,  and  so  I  can't  refuse  to 
serve  him.  It  is  a  most  unfortunate  affair,  but  he  in- 
sists that  you  fight  him  with  rapiers." 

"Very  well ;  I  agree  to  that.  Arrange  the  time  and 
place  with  my  second,  Mr.  Rattleton." 

Frank  .sat  down,  picked  up  an  illustrated  paper,  and 
Deemed  deeply  interested  in  the  pictures. 

Ditson  drew  Rattleton  aside. 

"My  principal,"  said  he,  swelling  with  importance, 
"demands  that  this  meeting  take  place  at  once." 

"Great  Scott!"  exploded  Harry.  "I  object  to  this 
sort  of  business.  It  is  outrageous!  If  one  of  them 
should  be  seriously  wounded,  what  excuse  can  be 
made?" 

"We'll  find  some  excuse  that  will  go." 

"But  what  if  one  of  them  should  be  killed?" 

"I  hardly  think  anything  as  serious  as  that  will  oc- 
cur." 

"But  should  it,  there  would  be  an  investigation,  and 


98  The  Duel. 

expulsion  and  disgrace,  if  nothing  worse,  would  over- 
take us." 

"Oh,  well,  if  you  are  afraid,  just  go  back  and  tell 
Mr.  Merriwell  to  apologize  here  and  now,  and  I  think 
Mr.  Diamond  will  let  him  off." 

Harry  looked  at  Merriwell  and  then  shook  his  head. 

"He'll  never  do  that,"  he  said,  hoarsely.  "We'll 
have  to  arrange  this  duel.  There  is  no  other  way 
for  it." 

Between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  twenty-three  blood 
runs  hot  and  swift  in  the  veins  of  a  youth.  It  is  then 
that  he  will  do  many  wild  and  reckless  things — things 
which  will  cause  him  to  stand  appalled  when  he  con- 
siders them  in  after  years. 

Frank  believed  that  in  order  to  retain  his  own  self 
respect  and  the  respect  of  his  comrades  he  must  meet 
Diamond  and  give  him  satisfaction  in  any  manner  he 
might  designate. 

But  there  was  another  reason  why  Frank  was  so  will- 
ing to  meet  the  Virginian.  Merriwell  was  an  expert 
fencer  At  Fardale  he  had  been  the  champion  of  the 
school,  and  he  had  taken  some  lessons  while  traveling. 
He  had  thoroughly  studied  the  trick  of  disarming  his 
adversary,  a  trick  which  is  known  to  every  French  fen- 
cing master,  but  is  thought  little  of  by  them. 

He  believed  that  he  could  repeatedly  disarm  Dia- 
mond. 


The  Duel.  99 

His  adventures  in  various  parts  of  the  world  had 
made  him  somewhat  less  cautious  than  he  naturally 
would  have  been  and  so  he  trusted  everything  to  his 
ability  to  get  the  best  of  the  Virginian. 

Roland  Ditson  longed  to  force  Merriwell  to  squeal. 
He  did  not  fancy  Frank  knew  anything  of  fencing,  and 
he  thought  Merriwell  would  soon  lose  his  nerve  when 
he  saw  himself  toyed  with  by  Diamond. 

And  Diamond  had  promised  not  to  seriously  wound 
the  fellow  he  hated. 

The  meeting  was  arranged  as  quietly  as  possible, 
and  the  freshmen  who  were  to  witness  it  slipped  out  of 
Billy's  by  twos  and  threes  and  strode  away. 

Thirty  minutes  later,  in  a  small,  stuffy  room,  two 
lads,  with  their  coats  and  vests  off  and  their  sleeves 
turned  back,  faced  each  other,  rapiers  in  hand. 

"Ready,  gentlemen!"  called  Ditson. 

They  made  ready. 

"On  guard!" 

The  position  was  assumed. 

Then  came  the  command  that  set  them  at  it. 

In  less  than  twenty  seconds  the  spectators,  who  kept 
back  as  well  as  possible,  had  seen  something  they  never 
beheld  before.  They  saw  two  beardless  lads  fighting 
with  deadly  weapons  and  using  skill  that  was  mar- 
velous. 

It  took  Jack  Diamond  far  less  than  twenty  seconds  to 


ioo  The  Duel. 

discover  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  a  swordsman  of  as- 
tonishing skill.  He  had  expected  to  toy  with  the 
Northerner,  but  he  found  himself  engaged  with  om 
who  met  every  stroke  like  a  professional. 

A  great  feeling  of  relief  came  over  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Whee  jiz !"  he  muttered.  "Merry  is  a  cooler  at  itf 
I  believe  he's  Diamond's  match !" 

With  Diamond  astonishment  gave  way  to  fury. 
Was  it  possible  that  this  fellow  was  to  get  the  best  of 
him  at  everything?  He  fought  savagely,  and  Ditsor 
turned  white  as  a  ghost  when  he  saw  the  Virginian- 
making  mad  thrusts  at  the  breast  of  the  lad  he  hated. 

"He's  forgotten  his  promise — he's  forgotten!"  hus- 
kily whispered  Ditson.  "What  if  he  should  run  Merri- 
well through  the  body  ?" 

Then  came  a  cry  of  anger  from  Diamond  and  a  cry 
of  surprise  and  relief  from  the  spectators. 

Frank  Merriwell,  with  that  peculiar  twisting  move- 
ment of  his  wrist,  had  torn  the  rapier  from  the  Vir- 
ginian's hand. 

The  blade  fell  clanging  to  the  floor,  and  Merriwell 
stepped  back,  with  the  point  of  his  rapier  lowered. 

Snarling  savagely,  Diamond  made  a  catlike  spring 
and  snatched  up  the  weapon  he  had  lost. 

"On  guard!"  he  cried,  madly.  "The  end  is  not  yet; 
I'll  kill  you  or  you'll  kill  me !" 


The  Duel.  101 

There  was  a  clash  of  steel,  and  then  the  fight  was  on 
•vith  more  fury  than  before. 

Diamond  was  utterly  reckless.  He  left  a  dozen 
openings  where  Frank  could  have  run  him  through. 
But  Merriwell  was  working  to  repeat  the  trick  of  a  few 
seconds  before. 

The  frightened  spectators  were  beginning  to  think  of 
intervening,  when  once  again  Diamond  was  disarmed. 

At  the  same  moment  there  came  a  heavy  knocking  at 
the  door. 

One  fellow,  who  had  been  on  guard,  ran  in  from  a 
corridor  and  cried : 

"It's  the  faculty!  Somebody  has  given  them  wind 
of  this!" 

"Here!  here!"  called  a  freshman.     "Follow  me!" 

They  did  so,  and  he  led  them  to  a  back  window,  out 
of  which  they  clambered. 

Diamond  was  the  last  to  get  out,  and  just  as  he 
touched  the  ground  somebody  came  around  the  corner 
and  grabbed  him. 

"I  have  one  of  them!"  shouted  a  voice,  which  he 
recognized,  as  belonging  to  one  of  the  faculty. 

He  struggled  to  break  away,  but  could  not. 

Then  somebody  dashed  back  to  his  side,  caught  hold 
of  him,  and  with  wonderful  strength  tore  him  from  the 
grasp  of  the  man. 

"Run!"  panted  Frank  Merriwell's  voice  in  his  ear. 


102  The  Duel. 

And  they  ran  away  together,  and  in  a  short  while 
were  safe  in  their  rooms. 

It  turned  out  that  it  was  not  the  faculty  that  had 
tried  to  get  in  where  the  duel  was  taking  place,  but 
some  of  the  sophs.  At  the  time  he  turned  back  to 
rescue  Diamond,  however,  Frank  had  believed  the  Vir- 
ginian was  in  the  grasp  of  one  of  the  professors, 

Merriwell  was  regarded  as  more  of  a  wonder  than 
ever  when  it  became  generally  known  that  he  had 
twice  disarmed  the  Virginian  in  a  duel  with  rapiers — 
or  a  "fencing  contest,"  as  the  matter  was  openly  spoken 
of  by  those  who  discussed  it. 

But  Bruce  Browning,  king  of  sophomores,  waa 
awaiting  an  opportunity  to  get  at  Frank. 


CHAPTER  X. 
AT  MOREY'S. 

"Say,  fellows,  this  thing  must  stop !" 

Puss  Parker  banged  his  fist  down  upon  the  table  as 
he  made  this  emphatic  declaration,  the  blow  causing 
the  partly  emptied  glass  of  ale  to  dance  and  vibrate. 

"Aw,  say,"  yawned  Willis  Paulding,  "you  want  to 
be  a  little  cawful  or  you  will  slop  the  good  stuff,  don't 
yer  know." 

Willis  affected  a  drawl,  had  his  clothes  made  in 
London,  and  considered  himself  "deucedly  English," 
although  he  sometimes  forgot  himself  for  a  short  time 
and  dropped  his  mannerisms. 

Tad  Horner  gave  Paulding  a  look  of  scorn. 

"Come  off  your  perch,  Paul!"  he  invited.  "You 
give  me  severe  pains!  Get  onto  yourself!  I  don't 
wonder  Parker  is  excited  over  this  matter." 

"Who  wouldn't  be  excited?"  exclaimed  Puss. 
"These  confounded  freshmen  have  overthrown  all  the 
established  customs  of  the  college.  They  have  been 
running  things  with  a  high  hand.  Why,  they  have 
really  been  cocks  of  the  walk  ever  since  that  little 
affair  out  at  East  Rock." 


104  At  Moray's. 

"  'Sh !"  cautioned  Punch  Swallows,  a  lad  with  fiery 
red  hair.  "Don't  speak  of  that,  for  the  love  of  good- 
ness! Just  think  of  a  gang  of  sophs  being  captured 
by  freshmen  disguised  as  Indians,  taken  out  into  the 
country,  tied  to  stakes  and  nearly  roasted,  while  tl:* 
freshmen  dance  a  gleeful  cancan  around  them!  It's 
awful !  The  mere  thought  of  it  gives  me  nervous  pro&- 
tration !" 

It  was  two  weeks  after  the  duel,  and  the  five  sopho- 
mores had  gathered  in  the  little  back  room  at  Morey's, 
They  looked  at  each  other  and  were  silent,  but  their 
silence  was  very  suggestive. 

"By  Jawve!"  drawled  Paulding,  "it  is  awful!  I 
wasn't  in  the  crowd.  If  I  had  been " 

"You'd  been  roasted  like  the  rest  of  us,"  cut  in 
Parker. 

"But  I'd  made  it  warm  faw  some  of  the  blooming 
cads." 

"Haven't  we  been  doing  our  level  best  to  make  it 
warm  for  them  ?"  cried  Homer.  "But  no  matter  what 
we  do,  they  see  us  and  go  us  one  better." 

"It  all  comes  from  Merriwell,"  asserted  Swallows 
"He's  king  of  the  freshmen,  the  same  as  Browning  i? 
king  of  the  sophomores." 

"And  he's  a  terror,"  nodded  Homer.  "He  can  put 
up  more  jokes  than  one." 

"And  they  say  he  can  fight." 


At  Morey's.  105 

"They  say !  Why,  didn't  you  see  him  do  Diamond, 
the  fresh  from  Virginia?  Oh,  no.  I  remember  you 
were  not  with  us  that  night.  Yes,  he  can  fight,  and 
he  doesn't  seem  to  be  easily  scared." 

"I  think  he  is  a  blawsted  upstart,"  said  Paulding, 
lazily  puffing  at  his  cigarette.  "He  needs  to  be  called 
down,  don't  yer  know." 

"Some  time  when  he  is  upstairs,  call  him  down," 
suggested  Horner. 

"Fists  are  not  the  only  things  that  fellows  can  fight 
with,"  said  Parker.  "The  matter  has  been  kept  quiet, 
but  it  is  said  to  be  a  fact  that  Diamond  forced  him 
into  a  duel  with  rapiers,  and  he  disarmed  the  South- 
erner twice,  having  him  completely  at  his  mercy  each 
time." 

"And  Diamond  prides  himself  on  being  an  expert 
with  that  kind  of  weapon,"  nodded  Horner. 

"Why  doesn't  Browning  do  something?"  asked 
Paulding.  "It  is  outrageous  faw  a  lot  of  freshies  tc 
run  things  this  way." 

"Browning  is  in  training,"  said  Parker. 

"In  training?  What  faw?  Why,  he  is  so  lazy " 

"He's  training  to  get  some  of  the  flesh  off  him.  It  is 
my  opinion  that  somebody  must  check  Merriwell's  wild 
career,  and  he  is  getting  in  condition  to  do  it.  You 
know  that  Browning  was  one  of  the  hardest  men  who 
ever  entered  Yale.  He  is  a  natural  athlete,  but  he's 


io6  At  Moray's. 

lazy,  and  he  has  allowed  himself  to  become  soft.  Why, 
he  knocked  out  Kid  Lajoie,  the  professional,  in  a  hard- 
glove  contest  of  three  rounds.  Lajoie  was  easy  fruit 
for  him.  I  fancy  he  means  to  go  up  against  this  fresh 
duck  Merriwell  and  do  him.  That's  the  only  thing 
that  will  pull  Merriwell  off  his  perch.  He  doesn't 
mind  being  hazed." 

"Doesn't  mind  it!"  shouted  Horner.  "Confound 
him!  He  always  manages  to  turn  the  tables  in  some 
way,  and  hazes  the  parties  who  try  to  haze  him." 

Two  youths  came  in  from  the  front  room. 

"Hey,  Browning!  Hello,  King!  Come  join  us. 
You,  too,  Emery"— to  the  other  fellow.  "What'll  you 
have,  Browning?" 

Browning  accepted  a  seat  at  the  table,  but  waved  his 
hand  languidly  as  he  declined  to  drink. 

"I'm  not  taking  anything  now,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  but  you  must !     Have  some  ale,  old  man." 

"Excuse  me,  gentlemen.  I  tell  you  squarely  that  I 
am  not  taking  anything  just  now.  By  and  by  I  will 
be  with  you  again.  Emery  will  go  you  one.  That's 
what  he  came  in  for." 

"That's  right,"  declared  Browning's  companion.  "I 
was  out  stargazing  last  night.  Looked  at  the  Long- 
Handled  Dipper  a  long  time,  and  it  gave  me  an  awful 
thirst.  I've  had  it  with  me  all  day.  Yes,  mine's  ale." 

So  another    round    was    ordered.     Horner  passed 


At  Moray's.  107 

around  the  cigarettes,  and  Browning  declined  them. 
The  others  lighted  up  fresh  ones. 

"Say,"  broke  out  Emery,  suddenly,  "do  you  know 
that  fresh  Ditson  gives  me  that  tired  feeling?" 

Tad  Horner  grinned. 

"He's  no  good,"  said  Tad.  "He  is  crooked  and  he's 
a  toucher.  Touched  me  for  a  V  once,  and  I  am  look- 
ing for  that  fiver  yet.  That  was  two  years  ago,  before 
I  came  here.  I  knew  him  then." 

"He  tried  to  touch  us  for  a  drink  as  we  came  along," 
said  Browning.  "I  took  him  in  here  once,  but  I've 
been  sorry  ever  since.  He  said  he  had  his  thirst  with 
him  just  now.  I  told  him  to  go  sit  on  the  fence  and 
let  the  wind  blow  him  off." 

"And  he  is  a  big  bluff,"  asserted  Emery.  "The 
other  day  he  was  telling  how  he  once  sat  at  the  table 
with  kings  and  queens.  I  told  him  that  I  had — and 
with  jacks  and  ten  spots.  Here  comes  the  amber.  My ! 
I  won't  do  a  thing  to  it !" 

The  waiter  placed  the  glasses  of  ale  before  them, 
and  Emery  eagerly  grasped  his. 

"Here's  more  to-morrow,"  was  his  toast,  and  he 
seemed  to  toss  it  off  at  a  single  swallow. 

"By  Jawve!"  drawled  Paulding.  "You  must  be 
thirsty!" 

"I  am.  Have  been  all  day,  as  I  said  before.  It  was 
hard  stuff  last  night,  and  we  went  the  rounds.  My 


.o8  At  Moray's. 

jead  needed  hooping  when  I  arose  from  my  downy 
..ouch  this  morning." 

"Well,  you  shouldn't  have  gotten  intoxicated,  in  the 
irst  place,"  said  Parker. 

"I  didn't.  It  was  in  the  last  place.  If  I'd  gone 
home  before  we  struck  that  joint  I'd  been  all  right." 

"Wow!"  whooped  Tad  Homer.  "You  seem  full 
of 'em!" 

"Oh,  I  am,  I've  been  eating  nothing  but  red  pep- 
per lately,  and  I'm  hot  stuff.  Let's  have  another  one 
all  around." 

More  ale  was  ordered. 

"Your  neck  must  be  dry  enough  to  squeak,  old  man,^' 
:aid  Parker,  addressing  Browning.  "It  doesn't  seem 
natural  for  you  to  go  thirsty.  Won't  you  have  just 
one?" 

"Not  one,"  smiled  Bruce,  lazily.  "I've  got  too  much 
flesh  on  me  now,  and  I'm  trying  to  get  some  of  it  off." 

"Going  to  try  for  the  football  team — or  what  ?" 

"Nothing  of  that  sort — but  I  have  a  reason." 

"We  know." 

"You  do?" 

"Sure." 

"What  is  it?" 

"You're  laying  for  Merriwell,  and  you  mean  to  do 
him.  I  am  right,  am  I  not?" 


At  Moray's.  109 

The  king  of  the  sophomores  smiled  in  a  lazy  way, 
but  did  not  reply. 

'That  settles  it,"  laughed  Parker.  "I  knew  I  was 
right.  Well,  somebody  must  curry  that  young  coir 
down  and  it  must  be  done  right  away." 

Browning  showed  sudden  animation.  He  looked 
around  at  the  faces  of  his  companions  and  then  said: 

"This  crowd  is  straight,  and  I  am  going  to  make  a 
few  remarks  right  here  and  now.  I  feel  just  like  it." 

"Drive  ahead."     "Go  on."     "We  are  listening." 

"I  am  not  inclined  to  talk  this  matter  over  publicly/7 
said  Bruce,  "but  I  will  say  that  the  time  is  ripe  to  get 
after  these  confounded  freshmen,  and  we  must  do  it, 
I  want  to  tell  you  what  I  found  this  morning.  Open 
wide  your  ears  and  listen  to  this." 

His  companions  were  quite  prepared  to  listen. 

"You  know  I  am  getting  up  every  morning  and  tak- 
ing a  stiff  walk.  I  turn  out  at  daybreak." 

"Good  gracious!"  gasped  Tad  Homer.  "How  do 
you  do  it  ?" 

"Well,  I've  got  one  of  those  electric  alarm  clocks, 
and  I  put  it  just  as  far  away  from  my  bed  as  pos 
sible." 

"Why  is  that?" 

"So  I  won't  get  hold  of  it  and  smash  thunder  out  01 
the  thing  when  it  gets  to  going.  You  know  it  won'; 
stop  its  racket  till  somebody  stops  it  or  it  is  run  down, 


no  At  Morey's. 

and  it  takes  an  hour  for  it  to  run  down  after  it  starts 
in  to  ring  you  up." 

"By  Jawve!"  drawled  Paulding;  "I  hawdly  think 
I'd  like  to  have  one  of  the  blooming  things  in  my 
room." 

"I  don't  like  to  have  one  in  my  room,  but  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  that  I  do.  Hartwick,  my  roommate, 
admires  it !" 

The  listeners  laughed. 

"I  should  think  he  might,"  said  Puss  Parker.  "He's 
got  a  temper  with  an  edge  like  a  cold-chisel." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  admires  it!  I've  got  so  I  believe  I 
should  sleep  right  through  the  racket,  but  he  kicks  me 
out  of  bed  and  howls  for  me  to  smother  the  thing.  So 
you  see  I  am  bound  to  get  up  at  the  proper  time.  Once 
I  am  out  of  bed,  I  stay  up.  The  first  morning  after  I 
bought  the  clock  the  thing  went  off  just  as  it  was  be- 
ginning to  break  day.  I  got  up  and  stopped  it  and 
then  went  back  to  bed.  Hartwick  growled,  but  we 
both  went  to  sleep.  I  had  been  snoozing  about  five 
minutes  when  the  clock  broke  loose  once  more.  Hart- 
wick was  mad,  you  bet !  I  opened  my  eyes  just  in  time 
to  see  him  sit  up  in  bed  with  one  of  his  shoes  in  his 
hand.  Whiz!  Before  I  could  stop  him  he  flung  the 
shoe  at  the  clock.  I  made  a  wild  grab  just  as  he  did 
so,  struck  his  arm,  and  disconcerted  his  aim.  The 
shoe  flew  off  sideways  and  smashed  a  mirror.  Hart- 


At  Moray's.  in 

wick  said  several  things.  Then  I  got  up  and  stopped 
the  clock  again.  I  dressed  and  went  out  for  my  walk, 
leaving  Hartwick  in  bed,  sleeping  sweetly.  When  I 
came  back  I  found  him,  about  half  dressed,  jumping 
wildly  up  and  down  in  the  middle  of  the  bed,  upon 
which  was  heaped  all  the  bedclothes,  all  of  Hartwick's 
clothes  except  those  he  had  on,  all  of  mine,  except  those 
I  was  wearing,  and  as  I  appeared  he  shrieked  for  me  to 
tear  down  the  window  shades  and  pass  them  to  him 
quick. 

"  'What's  the  matter?'  I  gasped.     'Are  you  mad?' 

"  'Yes,  I  am  mad !'  he  howled,  tearing  his  hair.  'I 
am  so  blamed  mad  that  I  don't  know  where  I  am  at !' 

"  'But  what's  the  matter?' 

"  'Matter!  Matter!  Hear  it!  Hear  the  daddly  thing! 
It  has  driven  me  to  the  verge  of  insanity !  I  tried  to 
stop  it,  but  I  couldn't  find  how  it  works.  And  now  I 
am  trying  to  stifle  it !  Hear  it !  Oh,  bring  me  a  club ! 
Bring  me  something  deadly!  Bring  me  a  gun,  and  I 
will  shoot  it  full  of  holes !' 

"Then  I  found  that  I  could  hear  my  clock  merrily 
rattling  away  under  that  heap  of  clothes.  It  seemed 
to  be  defying  Hartwick  or  laughing  at  him. 

"I  got  him  off  the  bed,  pawed  around  till  I  found 
the  clock  between  the  mattresses,  and  then  stopped  it. 
Hartwick  offered  me  three  times  what  it  was  worth 
if  I'd  let  him  use  his  baseball  bat  on  it.  I  told  him 


m  At  Moray's. 

it  seemed  to  be  a  very  willing  and  industrious  alarm 
clock,  and  it  was  mine.  I  warned  him  to  injure  it  at 
his  peril.  Since  then  I  have  learned  how  to  stop  it  so 
it  will  stay  stopped,  but  it  barely  commences  to  rattle  at 
daybreak  when  I  feel  Hartwick's  feet  strike  me  in  the 
small  of  the  back,  and  I  land  sprawling  on  the  floor. 
That  explains  how  I  succeed  in  getting  up  at  day- 
break." 

"You  started  in  to  tell  us  what  you  found  this  morn- 
ing," said  Punch  Swallows,  to  Browning,  lighting  a 
fresh  cigarette. 

"So  I  did,  and  the  alarm  clock  ran  me  off  the  trail. 
Well,  I  got  up  this  morning  as  usual — when  Hartwick 
kicked  me  out  to  stop  the  clock.  I  went  out  for  my 
walk  and  crossed  the  campus.  What  do  you  think  I 
found?" 

"A  diamond  ring.     We'll  all  have  ale." 

"Oh,  no,  Tad,  it  wasn't  a  diamond  ring.  I  noticed 
something  stuck  up  on  one  of  the  trees.  It  was  a  big 
sheet  of  paper,  and  on  it  was  skillfully  lettered  these 
words : 

"  'Bruce  Browning  will  wear  a  new  set  of  false  teeth 
;o  chapel  to-morrow  morning.'  " 

Browning  stopped  and  looked  around.  He  was  very 
proud  of  his  even,  regular,  white  teeth.  They  were  so 
perfect  that  they  might  be  taken  for  "store  teeth"  at 


At  Moray's.  1 1 } 

first  glance,  but  a  second  look  would  show  they  were 
natural. 

The  sophs  laughed,  and  Bruce  looked  indignant. 

"That  caused  me  to  look  still  further,"  he  went  on, 
'and  I  soon  found  another  sheet  upon  another  tree. 
This  is  what  I  read : 

"  'Conundrum.  Why  is  King  Browning  a  great 
electrician?  Because  all  his  clothes  are  charged.' 

"By  that  time  I  felt  like  murdering  somebody.  I 
did  take  a  morning  walk,  but  it  was  in  search  of  more 
stuff  of  the  same  order.  I  found  it  everywhere  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  college,  and  some  of  the  stuff  was  sim- 
ply awful.  It  made  me  shudder.  I  knew  who  was 
back  of  it  all.  Merriwell  put  up  the  job." 

"But  you  outwitted  him  by  getting  around  in  time  to 
tear  down  everything  he  had  put  up.  You  matched 
him  that  time." 

"By  accident.  But  I  must  more  than  match  him. 
He  must  be  suppressed." 

"That's  right !  that's  right!"  cried  the  boys  in  chorus. 

"I  know  he  put  the  advertisement  for  black  and 
white  cats  and  yellow  dogs  in  the  papers.  My  name 
was  signed  to  it,  and  more  than  two  hundred  black  and 
white  cats  and  yellow  dogs  were  brought  me  by  parties 
anxious  to  sell  them  at  any  price.  One  time  there 
were  seven  women  with  cats  in  my  room,  when  two 
men  came  up  leading  dogs.  The  first  woman  had 


ii4  At  Morey's. 

managed  to  get  into  the  room,  and  while  I  was  arguing 
with  her,  trying  to  convince  her  that  I  did  not  want  her 
blamed  old  cat,  the  others  found  their  way  in.  They 
opened  on  me  altogether.  Hart  wick  shut  himself  in 
the  clothespress,  and  I  could  hear  him  laughing  and 
gasping  for  breath.  I  was  nearly  crazy  when  the  men 
sauntered  in  with  the  dogs  in  tow.  Oh,  say !" 

Browning  fell  over  limply  in  his  chair,  as  if  the 
memory  of  what  followed  was  too  much  for  him. 

"You  have  had  a  real  warm  time  of  it,"  grinned 
Swallows. 

"Warm!  Warm!  My  boy,  it  was  warm!  Two 
of  the  women  were  showing  me  their  cats.  The  dogs 
saw  the  cats ;  the  cats  saw  the  dogs.  One  of  the  cats 
made  a  flying  leap  for  a  dog.  The  other  fled,  and 
the  other  dog  pursued.  The  seven  women  shrieked  all 
together,  and  the  two  men  swore  and  tried  to  catch  the 
dogs.  The  other  cats  escaped  from  the  baskets  in 
which  they  were  confined.  Warm!  Say!" 

The  king  of  the  sophomores  mopped  his  face  with 
his  handkerchief.  He  seemed  on  the  verge  of  utter 
collapse. 

The  listening  lads  could  not  entirely  restrain  their 
laughter.  The  picture  Browning  presented  and  the 
incident  he  was  relating  were  altogether  too  ludicrous. 

"Talk  about  rackets!"  he  wearily  continued;  "we 
had  one  then  and  there.  The  cats  yowled  and  the  dogs 


At  Moray's.  115 

howled.  The  women  fell  over  each  other  and  screamed 
blue  murder.  The  men  chased  the  dogs  and  roared 
blue  blazes.  And  the  wind  blew  hard ! 

"One  of  the  cats  alighted  on  an  old  lady's  head.  The    ' 
cat's  mistress  grabbed  her  and  took  her  away.     The  cat 
had  socked  her  claws  into  the  old  lady's  wig,  and  it 
came  off,  leaving  her  almost  as  bare  as  a  billiard  ball. 
Oh,  manner! 

"Two  of  the  cats  fell  to  tearing  the  fur  out  of  each 
other.  Some  of  them  walked  on  the  ceiling,  like  flies, 
in  their  endeavors  to  get  away  from  the  dogs.  One  of 
them  pounced  on  a»dog's  back  and  rode  him  around 
the  room,  as  if  she  were  a  circus  performer.  The  other 
dog  chased  a  cat  under  the  bed,  and  they  were  having 
it  there.  Oh,  they  didn't  do  a  thing — not  a  thing! 

"After  a  while  one  of  the  men  captured  one  of  the 
dogs  and  dragged  him  toward  the  door.  The  other 
man  saw  him  and  made  a  rush  for  him.  'Drop  that 
dawg !'  he  yelled.  'It's  my  dawg !'  the  other  man  yelled 
back.  And  then  the  other  man  howled,  'You're  an- 
other. It's  my  dawg!' 

"Right  away  after  that  there  was  trouble  between 
the  owners  of  the  dogs.  They  tried  to  hurt  each  other, 
and  they  succeeded  very  well.  One  of  them  had  both 
eyes  blacked,  while  the  other  lost  two  teeth,  had  his  lips 
split  and  his  nose  knocked  out  of  plumb.  But  they 


n6  At  Moray's. 

smashed  the  stuffing  out  of  the  furniture  while  they 
were  doing  it. 

"I  climbed  up  on  something  in  one  corner  and  did  my 
best  to  cheer  them  on.  I  sincerely  hoped  both  would 
be  killed.  The  dogs  seemed  to  feel  it  their  duty  to 
enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  and  they  chewed 
each  other  more  or  less. 

"Then  the  police  came  in.  I  came  near  landing  in 
the  station  house,  along  with  the  two  men  who  were 
fighting,  but  they  concluded  not  to  pinch  me.  Th? 
women  departed  after  having  once  more  expressed 
their  opinion  all  around  concerning  me. 

"When  they  were  gone  Hartwick  came  out  of  the 
clothespress.  We  sat  down  amid  the  ruins  and  said 
over  some  words  that  will  not  bear  repetition. 

"That's  the  whole  of  the  cat-and-dog  story.  I've 
never  been  able  to  prove  that  Merriwell  put  the  adver- 
tisement into  the  paper,  but  it  is  all  settled  in  my  mind. 
It  was  directly  after  this  that  I  went  into  training." 

Some  of  the  sophs  laughed  and  some  showed  indig- 
nation. 

"It  was  a  very  nawsty  thing  to  do,"  declared  Paul- 
ding. 

"I  can't  help  laughing  over  it,"  chuckled  Tad  Hof- 
ner.  "But  of  course  you  ought  to  get  back  at  Merri- 
well." 

"Well,  I  shall  do  my  best." 


At  Mqrey's.  117 

"I  don't  think  you  need  to  train  to  do  that  trick," 
said  Punch  Swallows.  "A  man  who  can  knock  out 
Kid  Lajoie  ought  to  polish  off  a  freshman  in  a  minute." 

"You  haven't  seen  Merriwell  fight?" 

"No." 

"I  have." 

"He  is  clever?" 

"He  is  a  corker.  Of  course  I  believe  I  can  do  him, 
but  I  want  to  do  him  easy,  and  that  is  why'I  am  train- 
ing." 

Another  party  of  sophomores  came  in. 

"It  is  Harrison  and  his  crowd,"  said  Parker,  "and 
I'm  blowed  if  they  haven't  got  Roll  Ditson  with  them ! 
That  cad  of  a  freshman  has  succeeded  in  getting  in  here 
again." 

"Ditson  hates  Merriwell,  don't  yer  know,"  said 
Paulding.  "He  pretends  to  be  friendly  with  Merry, 
but  he's  ready  to  do  him  any  time." 


CHAPTER  XL 
"LAMBDA    CHI!" 

Dkson  had  fawned  around  Browning  a  great  deal 
since  entering  college,  with  the  result  that  the  king  of 
the  sophomores  came  to  entertain  a  feeling  of  absolute 
disgust  for  the  fellow.  The  very  sight  of  Ditson  made 
the  "king"  feel  as  if  he  would  enjoy  giving  him  a  good 
"polishing  off." 

But  Bruce  was  no  bully,  although  he  was  a  leader  of 
the  sophomores.  He  had  proved  his  ability  to  fight 
when  it  was  necessary,  but  no  one  could  say  that  he 
ever  showed  any  inclination  to  do  bodily  harm  to  one 
who  was  weak  and  peaceable. 

During  his  freshman  year  Browning  had  originated 
any  number  of  wild  projects  for  sport,  and  he  had  al- 
ways succeeded  in  carrying  them  through  successfully. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  he  was  called  the  "king,"  and 
his  companions  continued  to  call  him  that  when  he  be- 
came a  sophomore. 

But  now  there  was  a  man  in  college  who  had  fairly 
outwitted  Browning  on  several  occasions,  and  so  it 
came  about  that  the  king  was  aroused  against  Frank 
Merriwell. 


'Lambda  Chi!"  119 

Browning  keenly  felt  the  sting  of  being  beaten  at  his 
own  game,  and  he  was  obliged  to  confess  to  himself 
that  Merriwell  had  accomplished  the  trick. 

But  our  hero  was  not  inclined  to  let  Bruce  alone. 
He  did  not  wait  for  the  king  to  become  aggressive ;  he 
set  about  keeping  Bruce  in  hot  water,  and  he  succeeded 
very  well. 

The  other  freshmen,  stimulated  by  the  example  of 
one  who  was  distinctly  a  leader  among  them,  carried 
on  such  an  energetic  campaign  against  the  sophomores 
that  the  latter  found  themselves  almost  continually  on 
the  defensive. 

Such  a  thing  had  never  before  been  known  at  Yale 
and  the  sophs  were  highly  indignant.  They  informed 
the  freshmen  that  they  were  altogether  too  fresh.  They 
said  the  freshmen  were  breaking  a  time-honored  cus- 
tom, and  it  must  be  stopped. 

But  the  triumphant  freshmen  kept  right  on,  laugh- 
ing in  the  faces  of  their  angry  foes. 

It  was  expected  that  Browning  would  not  delay 
about  getting  back  at  Merriwell  and  his  friends,  and 
the  admirers  of  the  king  were  surprised  when  he 
seemed  to  remain  inactive. 

Then  it  came  out  that  Bruce  was  in  training,  and  it 
was  said  that  he  was  putting  himself  in  condition  to 
give  Merriwell  the  worst  licking  of  his  life. 

Frank  heard  about  it,  but  he  did  not  seem  disturbed 


120  "Lambda  Chi  I" 

in  the  least.  Whenever  any  one  spoke  to  him  about  it 
he  merely  smiled. 

Among  the  freshmen  there  were  some  who  believed 
Merriwell  able  to  hold  his  own  against  Browning. 
They  were  Harry  Rattleton,  Jack  Diamond  and  one  01 
two  more. 

Diamond  and  Merriwell  were  not  friendly,  but  they 
had  ceased  to  be  open  enemies.  For  the  time  being 
the  hatchet  was  buried,  and  there  was  peace  between 
them. 

But  the  two  did  not  become  friends.  Merriwell  con- 
tinued to  assert  that  Diamond  had  sand,  and  Diamond 
was  ready  to  back  his  judgment  in  saying  that  Merri- 
well was  a  match  for  any  man  in  Yale. 

Morey's  was  a  sophomore  resort.  Juniors  and  sen- 
iors patronized  the  place,  but  a  freshman  was  not  al- 
lowed there  unless  invited  to  accompany  some  of  the 
regular  frequenters  of  the  place, 

Ditson  was  ambitious  He  was  not  satisfied  to  as- 
sociate with  those  of  his  own  class,  but  he  wanted  it 
thought  he  was  such  a  fine  fellow  that  the  sophomores 
picked  him  up  for  his  company. 

Thus  it  happened  that  he  had  succeeded  in  getting 
into  Morey's  several  times,  but  he  was  killing  his  own 
chances  of  ever  having  any  popularity,  although  he  did 
not  know  it. 


"Lambda  Chi !"  121 

Browning  was  angry  when  he  saw  the  fellow  come 
in.  He  called  one  of  the  sophs  over  and  said : 

"Say,  what  are  you  bringing  it  in  here  again  for,  mv 
boy?  It's  been  here  too  many  times  already." 

"Who— Ditson?" 

"Sure." 

"We're  working  him." 

"Working  him?  He's  working  you — for  the 
drinks." 

"That's  all  right.  He's  telling  us  what  he  knows 
about  Merriwell.  If  there  is  anything  in  that  fellow's 
history  that  we  can  use  as  a  sore  spot,  we  may  be  able 
to  suppress  him." 

"All  right,"  scowled  Browning.  "Go  ahead  and 
pump  the  crooked  sneak,  but  don't  swallow  his  lies. 
I  don't  believe  he  knows  anything  at  all  about  Merri- 
well." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  soph  returned  and  said : 

"I  don't  think  he  knows  much  about  him,  myself, 
but  he  says  he's  down  at  Billy's  now — or  was  an  hour 
ago.  We  might  get  a  chance  to  Lambda  Chi  him  a 
little." 

Browning  seemed  to  arouse  himself. 

"That's  right,"  he  agreed.  "We'll  go  down  to 
Billy's." 

The  party  filed  out  of  Morey's  and  Browning  took 
the  lead.  Ditson  went  along  with  them  as  if  he  was  a 


122  "Lambda  Chi !" 

sophomore.  He  seemed  to  feel  himself  highly  hon- 
ored, but  Browning  had  hard  work  to  choke  back  his 
absolute  contempt  for  the  fellow. 

As  they  went  along,  it  was  arranged  that  Ditson 
should  go  into  Billy's  and  see  if  Merriwell  was  there. 
One  of  the  sophomores  should  accompany  him.  If 
Merriwell  was  there  and  he  should  come  out  alone  or 
in  company  with  one  or  two  others,  he  was  to  be  cap- 
tured. Browning  had  a  plan  that  should  be  carried 
out  if  the  capture  was  made. 

Ditson  seemed  to  think  he  was  doing  something  very 
smart  and  cunning  in  betraying  a  fellow  freshman  into 
the  hands  of  the  sophomores.  He  fancied  he  was  mak- 
ing himself  solid  with  Browning's  crowd. 

Billy's  was  reached,  and  one  of  the  sophs  went  in 
with  Ditson,  while  the  others  kept  out  of  sight  nearby. 

After  a  little  the  soph  came  out  and  reported  that 
Merriwell  and  Rattleton  were  in  there.  He  had  treated 
the  house,  but  Merriwell  had  absolutely  declined  to 
take  anything. 

"Oh,  yes,"  nodded  Browning.  "They  say  he  never 
drinks.  That's  how  he  keeps  himself  in  such  fine  con- 
dition all  the  time.  He  will  not  smoke,  either,  and 
he  takes  his  exercise  regularly.  He  is  really  a  remark- 
able freshie." 

Arrangements  were  then  made  that  a  cab  should 


"Lambda  Chi  1"  123 

be  brought  to  the  corner  near  Billy's,  where  the  driver 
should  remain,  apparently  waiting  for  somebody. 

It  was  known  to  be  quite  useless  to  attempt  to  de- 
coy Merriwell  out,  so  dependence  must  be  placed  on 
chance.  If  he  came  out  with  no  more  than  one  or 
iwo  companions  his  name  was  "mud,"  according  to  the 
assembled  sophs. 

Arrangements  were  made  to  bind  handkerchiefs 
over  their  faces  to  the  eyes,  so  they  would  be  partly 
disguised.  Some  of  them  turned  their  coats  wrong 
side  out,  and  some  resorted  to  other  means  of  disguis- 
ing themselves. 

Then  they  waited  patiently. 

It  was  not  so  very  long  before  Ditson  came  out  in 
a  breathless  hurry.  He  signaled,  and  they  called  him. 
As  he  hastened  up  he  panted : 

"Merriwell  is  coming  right  out,  fellows!  Be  ready 
for  him!" 

The  sophomores  knew  which  way  Frank  was  likely 
to  go  after  leaving  Billy's,  and  they  lay  in  wait  at  a 
convenient  spot. 

"Is  he  alone?"  eagerly  asked  Puss  Parker 

"No." 

"Who  is  with  him?" 

"Rattleton." 

"Any  others?" 

"Not  likely." 


124  "Lambda  Chi !" 

"Good !    Take  a  tumble  to  yourself  and  skip." 

Ditson  did  so. 

"Now,  fellows,"  hurriedly  said  Browning,  "be  ready 
for  a  struggle.  Remember  that  Merriwell  is  a  scrapper 
and  he  is  likely  to  resist.  We  must  take  him  com- 
pletely by  surprise.  Get  back  and  lay  quiet  till  I  give 
the  signal." 

They  did  as  directed,  and  as  they  were  in  a  dark 
corner,  there  was  not  much  danger  that  they  would 
be  seen  till  they  were  ready  to  light  on  their  game. 

Footsteps  were  heard. 

"Here  he  comes !" 

Browning  peered  out,  and  two  figures  were  seen 
approaching. 

"How  many?"  anxiously  whispered  Tad  Homer, 
quivering  with  anxiety. 

"Two.    They  are  easy.    Ready  for  the  rush." 

The  sophomores  crouched  like  savage  warriors  in 
ambush. 

Merriwell's  peculiar,  pleasant  laugh  was  heard  as 
the  two  unsuspecting  freshmen  approached. 

Rattleton  was  talking,  and,  as  usual,  he  was  twisting 
his  expression  in  his  haste  to  say  the  things  which 
flashed  through  his  head. 

"It  doesn't  make  a  dit  of  bifference  if  we  haven't 
proved  anything  against  him,  I  say  Ditson  can't  be 


"Lambda  Chi!"  125 

trusted.  He's  got  a  mocked  crug — I  mean  a  crooked 
mug." 

"Oh,  don't  be  too  hard  on  the  fellow  till  you  know 
something  for  sure,"  advised  Merriwell.  "I  will  con- 
fess that  I  do  not  like  him,  but " 

There  was  a  sudden  rush  of  dark  figures  oat  of  the 
shadows,  and  the  two  freshmen  were  clutched.  Coats 
were  flung  over  their  heads  and  they  were  crushed  to 
the  ground. 

Although  taken  by  surprise,  both  lads  struggled. 

In  the  suddenness  of  the  rush  Browning  had  made 
a  mistake  and  flung  himself  on  Rattleton,  while  he  had 
intended  to  grasp  Merriwell.  The  coat  being  cast 
over  the  head  of  the  lad  prevented  him  from  discover- 
ing his  mistake. 

Punch  Swallows  and  Andy  Emery  were  devoting 
themselves  to  Merriwell,  and  it  was  their  first  impres- 
sion that  they  had  tackled  Rattleton. 

For  an  instant  it  seemed  that  the  trick  had  worked  tc 
perfection,  and  the  freshmen  had  been  made  captives 
easily. 

Then  came  a  surprise. 

Swallows  and  Emery  were  unable  to  hold  ther 
man  down.  He  tore  off  the  smothering  coat  and  rose 
with  them,  despite  all  they  could  do.  They  cried  out 
for  help: 

"Give  us  a  hand,  fellows !    He's  like  an  eel !  Quick  f  * 


126  "Lambda  Chi !" 

Some  of  the  sophs  had  been  unable  to  render  much 
assistance,  and  they  now  did  their  best  to  aid  Swal- 
lows and  Emery.  In  their  haste  to  do  something  they 
seemed  to  get  in  the  way  of  each  other. 

"Well,  I  don't  know — I  don't  know!"  laughed  a 
familiar  voice,  and  the  freshman  gave  Swallows  a  snap 
that  lifted  him  off  his  feet  and  cast  him  into  the  stom- 
ach of  another  fellow,  who  received  such  a  blow  from 
Punch's  head  that  the  wind  was  knocked  out  of  him  in 
a  moment. 

"We'll  have  to  see  about  this,"  said  the  freshman 
as  he  cracked  Emery  on  the  jaw  and  broke  his  hold. 

"Great  smoke!  It's  Merriwell!"  gurgled  Emery  as 
he  reeled  back. 

"Onto  him,  fellows !"  urged  a  soph,  and  Frank  sud- 
denly found  six  or  seven  of  the  crowd  were  at  him. 

Just  how  he  did  it  no  one  could  tell,  but  he  broke 
straight  through  the  crowd  and  in  another  moment 
was  rushing  back  toward  Billy's,  shouting: 

"Lambda  Chi !    Lambda  Chi !" 

It  was  useless  to  try  to  follow  him,  as  all  quickly 
saw. 

In  the  meantime  Rattleton  had  been  cornered,  and 
the  disappointed  sophs  resolved  to  escape  with  him. 
They  lifted  him  and  made  a  rush  for  the  cab.  He 
was  bundled  in,  and  away  went  the  cab. 

Frank  rushed  into  Billy's  and  gave  the  alarm.     He 


"Lambda  Chi!"  127 

was  out  again  in  a  very  few  seconds,  with  a  crowd  of 
excited  freshmen  at  his  heels;  but  when  they  came  to 
look  for  the  sophomores  and  Rattleton  they  found 
nothing. 

"Confound  it !"  exclaimed  Frank  in  dismay.  "How 
could  they  get  him  away  so  quick?  I  can't  under- 
stand it" 

The  freshmen  searched,  but  they  found  nothing  to 
reward  them.  Rattleton  was  in  the  toils  of  the 
enemy,  and  the  would-be  rescuers  were  given  no  oppor- 
tunity to  rescue  him. 

Then  Merriwell  blamed  himself  for  leaving  his  room- 
mate at  all.  But  Billy's  had  been  so  near  and  his 
chance  with  his  many  assailants  had  seemed  so  slim 
that  he  had  done  what  seemed  the  right  thing  to  do  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment.  He  had  not  fancied  that  the 
sophomores  would  be  able  to  get  Harry  away  before 
he  could  arouse  the  freshmen  and  bring  them  to  the 
rescue. 

"Poor  Harry!  I  wonder  what  they  will  do  with 
him?"  Frank  speculated. 

"Oh,  they  won't  do  a  thing  with  him!"  gurgled 
Bandy  Robinson. 

"How  did  it  happen,  anyway?"  asked  Roland  Dit- 
son,  who  had  joined  the  freshmen  after  the  affair  was 
over. 


,28  "Lambda  Chi !" 

He  tried  to  appear  innocent  and  filled  with  wonder 
and  curiosity,  but  his  unpopularity  was  apparent  from 
the  fact  that  nobody  paid  enough  attention  to  him  to 
answer  his  question. 

Frank,  however,  found  it  necessary  to  tell  his  com- 
panions all  about  the  assault,  and  Ditson  pretended  t© 
listen  with  interest,  as  if  he  had  known  nothing  of 
the  affair. 

The  freshmen  went  back  to  Billy's  and  held  a  coun- 
cil. It  was  decided  to  divide  into  squads  and  make  an 
attempt  to  find  out  where  Harry  had  been  taken. 

This  was  done,  but  it  proved  without  result,  and  not 
far  from  midnight  all  the  freshmen  who  had  been 
there  at  the  time  of  the  capture,  and  many  others, 
were  again  gathered  at  Billy's.  They  were  quite  ex- 
cited over  the  affair,  and  it  seemed  that  the  beer  the> 
had  absorbed  had  gone  to  the  heads  of  some  of  them. 

In  the  midst  of  an  excited  discussion  the  door  burst 
open,  and  a  most  grotesque-looking  figure  staggered 
into  the  room.  It  was  a  person  who  was  stripped  to 
the  waist  and  painted  and  adorned  like  a  redskin,  his 
face  striped  with  red  and  white  and  yellow,  his  hair 
stuck  full  of  feathers,  and  his  body  decorated  with 
what  seemed  to  be  tattooing. 

"Bive  me  a  gear — I  mean  give  me  a  beer!"  gasped 
that  fantastic  individual.  "I  am  nearly  dead!" 


"Lambda  Chi  I"  129 

"It's  Rattleton !"  shouted  the  freshmen. 

They  crowded  around  him. 

"Well,  say,  you  are  a  bird!"  cried  Lucy  Little, 
whose  right  name  was  Lewis  Little. 

"A  regular  bird  of  paradise,"  chuckled  Bandy  Rob- 
inson. 

"Where  are  those  fellows  ?"  demanded  Frank  Merri- 
well.  "Where  did  they  leave  you?  Tell  me,  old 
man." 

"At  the  door,"  faintly  replied  Rattleton  as  he 
reached  for  a  mug  of  beer  which  some  one  held 
toward  him.  "They  took  me  right  up  to  the  door 
and  made  me  come  in  here." 

"Out!"  shouted  Frank — "out  and  after  them!  Cap- 
ture one  of  them  if  possible!  We  want  to  even  this 
thing  up." 

Out  they  rushed,  but  once  more  the  crafty  sopho- 
mores had  vanished,  and  not  one  of  them  was  to  be 
found. 

The  freshmen  went  back  and  listened  to  Harry's 
story.  He  told  how  he  had  been  blindfolded  and  taken 
somewhere,  he  did  not  know  where.  There  they  had 
kept  him  while  his  friends  were  searching.  When  there 
was  no  danger  that  the  freshmen  would  discover  them, 
rhe  set  out  to  have  fun  with  Rattleton. 

"Say,  Merry,  old  man,"  said  Harry,  "I  know  Brown- 


130  "Lambda  Chi!" 

ing  was  the  leader  of  this  job,  although  he  was  dis- 
guised. They  seemed  to  feel  pretty  bad  because  you 
got  away.  They  got  twisted — took  me  for  you  at 
first,  and  by  the  time  they  discovered  their  mistake 
you  were  knocking  them  around  like  tenpins.  One 
chap  insists  you  broke  his  jaw." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  I  did  that  much.  I  didn't  mean 
to  leave  you,  Harry.  Billy's  was  so  near  I  thought  I 
could  get  the  boys  out  and  rescue  you  before  they 
could  carry  you  off.  I  couldn't  rescue  you  alone,  so  I 
ran  here  to  stir  up  the  fellows." 

"That  was  right.  I  was  glad  you  got  away.  They 
were  laying  for  you.  They  told  me  so." 

"Well,  come  back,  and  we'll  wash  this  stuff  off  you.'* 

"I  don't  know  as  you  can  do  it." 

"Eh?     Why  not?" 

"They  said  it  was  put  on  to  stay  a  while.  They  told 
me  we  were  so  fond  of  playing  the  noble  red  man's 
part  that  they  would  fix  me  so  I  could  play  it  for  a 
week  or  two.  Some  of  them  advised  me  to  use  sand 
to  scrub  myself  with  if  I  hoped  to  get  the  paint  off." 

"Oh,  that  must  be  all  a  bluff.  It  will  come  off  easy 
enough  if  a  little  cocoa  butter  is  used  on  it.  Here, 
somebody  run  out  to  a  drug  store  and  get  some  cocoa 
butter." 

After  they  had  worked  about  fifteen  minutes  they 


"Lambda  Chi !"  131 

looked  at  each  other  in  dismay,  for  they  had  scarcely 
been  able  to  start  the  paint,  and  it  become  plain  that 
cocoa  butter,  soap  and  water  would  not  take  it  off. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you?"  murmured  Harry,  sorrowfully. 
'Tm  done  for !  I'll  never  be  able  to  get  it  off !  I'll  have 
to  go  out  West  and  live  with  the  Sioux !  If  I  do  I'll 
take  along  the  scalps  of  a  few  sophomores!" 

They  continued  to  work  on  him  for  nearly  an  hour, 
but  were  unable  to  get  off  more  than  a  certain  portion 
of  the  paint.  Harry  was  still  grotesquely  decorated 
when  the  boys  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  further 
scrubbing  with  the  materials  at  hand  was  useless. 

• 

Then  Frank  went  out  and  rang  up  a  druggist  who 
had  gone  to  bed,  for  it  was  after  midnight.  He  told 
the  man  the  sort  of  scrape  his  friend  was  in  and  offered 
the  druggist  inducements  to  give  him  something  to  re- 
move the  paint. 

The  druggist  said  it  could  not  be  paint,  but  must  be 
some  sort  of  staining,  and  he  gave  Frank  a  preparation. 

Frank  went  back  and  tried  the  stuff  on  Harry.  It 
removed  a  certain  amount  of  the  stain,  but  did  not  re- 
move it  all. 

At  last,  being  thoroughly  worn  out,  Rattleton  said : 

"I'll  give  it  up  for  to-night,  fellows.  Perhaps  I'll 
be  able  to  get  the  rest  off  in  the  morning.  I'll  poul- 


132  "Lambda  Chi !" 

tice  my  face  and  neck.  But  you'll  have  to  watch  out, 
Frank.  They  say  they  will  use  you  worse  than  this 
when  they  get  hold  of  you." 

For  the  time  the  sophomores  seemed  to  have  the 
best  of  the  game. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FRESHMAN   AGAINST   SOPHOMORE. 

On  the  following  morning  a  large  piece  of  cardboard 
swung  from  the  door  of  Merriwell  and  Rattleton's 
room  in  Mrs.  Harrington's  boarding  house.  On  the 
cardboard  was  this  inscription: 

"Good-morning ! 
Have  you  used 
Soap?" 

Harry  was  up  at  an  early  hour  industriously  scrub- 
bing away.  He  succeeded  fairly  well,  but  despite  his 
utmost  efforts  the  coloring  refused  to  come  off  entirely. 

And  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  at- 
tend chapel. 

On  their  way  to  chapel  Frank  and  Harry  came  face 
to  face  with  Professor  Such,  who  peered  at  them 
fharply  and  said: 

"Good-morning,  gentlemen." 

"Good-morning,  professor,"  returned  the  boys. 

Harry  tried  to  keep  behind  Frank,  so  that  his  face 
would  not  be  noticed.  The  professor  was  nearsighted, 
but  he  immediately  noted  Rattleton's  queer  actions* 


134       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

and  he  placed  himself  in  front  of  the  boys,  adjusting 
his  spectacles. 

"Hang  his  curiosity !"  muttered  Harry  in  disgust 

"Eh?"  said  the  professor,  scratching  his  chin  with 
one  ringer  and  peering  keenly  at  Harry.  "Did  you 
speak,  sir?" 

"Yes,  sir — I  mean  no,  sir,"  spluttered  Harry,  while 
Frank  stepped  aside  and  stood  laughing  silently  to  him- 
self. 

"I  thought  you  did.  Er — what's  the  matter  with 
your  face,  young  man?" 

"That's  the  result  of  my  last  attack  of  chilblains," 
said  Harry,  desperately.  "They  hent  to  my  wed — I 
mean  they  went  to  my  head." 

"Eh?" 

The  professor  seemed  to  doubt  if  he  had  heard  cor- 
rectly, while  Merriwell  nearly  exploded. 

Rattleton  looked  frightened  when  he  came  to  think 
what  he  had  said.  He  felt  like  taking  to  his  heels  and 
running  for  his  life. 

"Chilblains,  sir?"  came  severely  from  Professor 
Such.  "Sir — sir,  do  not  attempt  to  be  facetious  with 
me !  You  will  regret  it  if  you  do !" 

Cold  sweat  started  out  on  Harry's  forehead,  and  he 
looked  appealingly  toward  his  companion ;  but  Frank 
had  turned  away  to  conceal  his  merriment. 

"I — I    don't    think    I — I    understood    your — your 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.       135 

question,"  stammered  Harry.  "I'm  a  little  heard  of 
haring — I  mean  hard  of  hearing." 

"I  asked  you  what  was  the  matter  with  your  face, 
sir." 

"Oh,  my  face !  Ha !  ha !  He !  he !  I  thought  you 
said  something  about  my  pace,  because  I  was  walking 
so  slowly.  That  made  me  fancy  you  were  interested 
to  know  what  ails  my  feet.  Excuse  me !  I  beg  your 
pardon,  professor !" 

"Hum!"  coughed  the  professor,  again  scratching 
his  chin  with  the  tip  of  his  finger,  while  he  peered 
through  his  spectacles,  plainly  still  somewhat  sus- 
picious. "It  is  rather  remarkable  that  you  should  get 
things  mixed  in  such  a  manner." 

"I  am  not  feeling  well,  professor,  not  at  all." 

And  it  was  apparent  to  Frank  that  Harry  told  the 
truth, 

"You  are  not  looking  well,"  came  somewhat  sarcas- 
tically from  Professor  Such's  lips.  "Your  counte- 
nance has  a  strangely  mottled  hue." 

"It  comes  from  Injun  jestion,"  explained  Merriwell, 
coming  to  his  roommate's  relief. 

^"Eh?     From  what,  sir." 
"From  indigestion,"  said  Frank,  very  soberly.    "He 
is  much  troubled  that  way." 

"Much  troubled!  much  troubled!"  exclaimed  the 
professor,  whose  ear  had  been  offended  and  who  im- 


136       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

mediately  turned  his  attention  on  Frank.  "I  advise 
you  to  be  somewhat  more  choice  and  careful  of  your 
language,  young  man.  There  is  a  right  and  a  wrong 
use  of  words." 

Just  then  the  chapel  bell  clanged,  and  the  professor 
exclaimed : 

"Bless  me!  we'll  be  late  if  we're  not  careful!" 

Away  he  hurried. 

Frank  and  Harry  followed  him,  and  as  they  went 
along  Harry  expressed  his  feelings  forcibly  and  vio- 
lently. 

"How  dare  you  howl  before  me?"  laughed  Frank. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Rattleton.  "I  didn't  know  you 
wanted  to  howl  first." 

At  chapel  Harry  felt  that  the  eyes  of  everybody 
were  upon  him.  He  kept  one  hand  up  to  his  face  as 
much  as  possible,  but  he  saw  the  sophomores  smiling 
covertly  and  winking  among  themselves.  He  longed 
to  get  even ;  that  was  his  one  burning  ambition  and  de- 
sire. 

When  the  service  was  over  the  freshmen  stood  and 
bowed  to  the  faculty  as  they  passed  out.  They  were 
supposed  to  keep  bowing  to  the  seniors,  juniors  and 
sophomores,  but  that  custom  had  long  been  a  dead  let- 
ter at  Yale.  The  freshmen  had  become  too  independ- 
ent for  such  a  thing. 

However,  they  stood  and  saw  the  upper  classmen 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.       137 

go  past,  and  it  seemed  to  poor  Harry  that  every  fel- 
low stared  at  him  and  grinned.  The  sophs  added  to 
his  misery  and  anger  by  winking  at  him,  and  Tad  Hor- 
ner  ventured  to  go  through  a  swift  pantomime  of  tak- 
ing a  scalp. 

"Oh,  I  am  liable  to  have  yours  yet,"  thought  Harry. 

On  their  way  back  to  their  rooms  Harry  and  Frank 
were  greeted  by  all  sorts  of  calls  and  persiflage  from 
the  sophomores,  who  had  gathered  in  knots  to  watch 
them  pass. 

This  sort  of  chaffing  gave  Rattleton  "that  tired  feel- 
ing," as  he  expressed  it,  and  by  the  time  they  reached 
their  room  he  was  in  a  desperate  mood. 

"I'll  get  even!"  he  vowed,  fiercely.     "I'll  do  it." 

"Go  ahead — you  can  do  it,"  laughed  Frank.  "You 
can  do  anybody." 

Then  Harry  flung  a  book  at  him,  which  Frank  skill- 
fully caught  and  returned  with  the  utmost  politeness. 

At  breakfast  Rattleton  was  chafed  by  the  freshmen, 
and  he  boiled  more  than  ever. 

"Somebody  has  my  coat,  vest,  hat,  shirt  and  under- 
shirt," he  said  as  he  thought  the  affair  over.  "I  had 
to  go  home  in  a  linen  duster  which  I  got  down  to  Billy's 
last  night.  I  don't  care  so  much  for  the  clothes  I  lost, 
but  I'd  like  to  know  who  has  'em.  I'd  sue  him !" 

But  after  breakfast  an  expressman  appeared  with  a 


138       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

bundle  for  Rattleton,  and  in  the  bundle  were  the  miss- 
ing articles. 

The  sophomores  were  jubilant,  and  they  taunted  the 
freshmen.  They  said  the  fate  that  had  befallen  Rat- 
tleton was  simply  a  warning.  It  was  nothing  beside 
what  might  happen. 

For  the  time  the  freshmen  were  forced  to  remain 
silent,  but  they  felt  that  the  sophomores  had  not  evened 
up  matters  by  any  means.  And  the  affair  would  not 
be  dropped. 

During  the  afternoon  of  that  day  it  rained  for  at 
least  two  hours,  and  it  did  not  clear  up  and  let  the  sun 
out,  so  there  was  plenty  of  dirt  and  mud  at  nightfall. 

Then  it  was  that  Rattleton  some  way  found  out  that 
a  number  of  sophomores  who  dined  at  a  club  on  York 
Street  were  going  to  attend  a  party  that  evening.  It 
was  to  be  a  swell  affair  on  Temple  Street,  and  the 
sophs  were  certain  to  wear  their  dress"  suits. 

"They'll  din  for  dresser — I  mean  dress  for  dinner," 
spluttered  Harry  as  he  was  telling  Frank.  "It's  cer- 
tain they'll  go  directly  from  dinner  to  the  party." 

"Well,  what  has  worked  its  way  into  your  head  ?" 

"A  scheme." 

"Give  it  to  us." 

"We'll  be  ready  for  'em  when  they  come  from  din- 
ner, and  we'll  give  'em  a  rusn.  They're  not  likely  to 
be  in  any  condition  to  attend  a  party  after  we  are 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.        139 

through  with  them.  What  do  you  say,  old  man? 
What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"We  are  likely  to  get  enough  of  rushing  in  the  an- 
nual rush,  but  I'm  with  you  if  you  want  to  carry  this 
job  through." 

"All  right,  then,  we'll  do  it  We'll  give  those  sophs 
a  warm  time.  I  have  been  grouchy  all  day,  but  I  be- 
gin to  feel  better  now." 

So  Frank  and  Harry  communicated  the  plan  to  their 
friends,  and  a  party  gathered  in  their  room  immediately 
after  supper. 

Dismal  Jones  was  out  as  a  scout,  and  he  had  agreed 
to  let  them  know  when  the  sophomores  left  their  club. 
They  were  inclined  to  take  much  more  time  in  dining 
than  the  freshmen. 

Pretty  soon  Jones  came  racing  up  the  stairs  and 
burst  into  the  room. 

"Come  on,  fellows !"  he  cried.  "The  sophs  are  leav- 
ing their  club,  and  there's  lots  of  'em  wearing  dress 
suits.  We'll  have  a  picnic  with  'em !" 

Dismal  seldom  got  excited,  but  now  he  was  quite 
aroused. 

The  freshman  caught  up  their  caps  and  hurried 
downstairs.  They  were  soon  on  the  street,  and  they 
hastened  to  meet  their  natural  enemies. 

The  sophomores  had  formed  by  twos,  with  Brown- 
ing and  Emery  in  advance.  It  was  true  that  many  of 


140       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

them  were  in  dress  suits,  and  they  were  not  a  little  dis- 
turbed when  they  saw  the  solid  body  of  freshmen  com- 
ing swiftly  to  meet  them. 

To  pass  on  the  right  the  sophomores  were  entitled 
to  the  inside  of  the  sidewalk,  and  although  they  would 
have  given  much  to  avoid  the  encounter,  they  formed 
solidly  and  prepared  to  defend  their  rights. 

The  freshmen  also  formed  in  a  compact  mass,  and 
came  on  with  a  rush,  keeping  hard  up  against  the  wall. 

"Turn  to  the  right !     Turn  to  the  right !" 

The  sophomores  uttered  the  cry  as  they  hugged  the 
wall  on  the  inside. 

"Sweep  'em  off!     Sweep  'em  off!" 

That  was  the  cry  that  came  from  the  determined 
freshmen. 

"Hold  on !  hold  on !"  ordered  Browning.  "There  is 
a  law  for  this !" 

"Then  you  will  have  to  produce  officers  to  enforce 
it,"  laughed  Frank  Merriwell. 

"But  there  is  a  regular  time  for  rushing." 

"This  is  not  a  regular  rush,  so  we  don't  mind." 

"But  you  fellows  have  no  right  to  do  it !" 

"Is  that  so?"  was  the  derisive  retort.  "Hear  the 
sophs  sequeal  fellows!  Oh,  my!  but  this  is  funny!" 

"Stop  a  minute  and  we  will  argue  this  matter, 
freshies,"  invited  Browning,  who  was  thoroughly  dis- 
guested  over  the  prospect. 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.        141 

Then  the  whole  crowd  of  freshmen  roared  with 
laughter. 

"Hear  the  baby  cry!"  they  shouted.  "He  is  beg- 
ging !  Ha !  ha !  ha !" 

Browning's  face  was  crimson  with  anger  and  con- 
fusion. 

"You  are  an  insolent  lot  of  young  ruffians!"  he 
snapped,  "and  Merriwell  is  the  biggest  ruffian  of  you 
all!" 

"Back  it  up!  back  it  up!" 

"lean!" 

"Why  don't  you?" 

"I  will  when  the  right  time  comes." 

"What's  the  matter  with  this  for  the  right  time?" 

"No!  no!  Turn  to  the  right  and  let  us  pass  now. 
We  will  see  you  again." 

"We  see  you  now,  and  we  are  going  to  raise  you 
the  limit." 

The  sophomores  held  a  hurried  consultation,  and 
then  Browning  said : 

"If  you  fellows  will  wait  till  we  go  change  our 
clothes  we'll  come  out  and  give  you  as  warm  a  time  as 
you  want." 

"All  right,  we  will  wait." 

"Then  let  us  pass." 

"We'll  do  that,  but  you  will  have  to  pass  on  the  out- 
side." 


1 42       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

That  was  something  the  sophomores  could  not  do 
without  yielding  to  the  freshmen,  and  they  felt  that 
they  had  rather  die  than  yield  unless  compelled  to  do  so. 

The  sophomores  stormed  and  scolded,  and  the  fresh- 
men, who  outnumbered  them,  laughed  and  flung  back 
taunts. 

Then  the  sophomores  determined  on  a  quick,  sud- 
den rush,  but  it  happened  that  the  freshmen  had  de- 
cided on  a  rush  at  the  same  moment,  and  the  two  bodies 
of  lads  plunged  forward  as  if  at  one  signal. 

"  'Umpty-^ight !  'Umpty-eight !"  yelled  the  fresh- 
men. 

"  'Umpty-scven !  'Umpty-seven !"  shouted  the  soph- 
omores. 

Crash!     They  met! 

Then  there  occurred  one  of  the  liveliest  struggles  of 
the  season  up  to  that  date.  Each  side  did  its  best  to 
force  the  other  off  the  sidewalk,  and  for  some  moments 
they  swayed  and  surged  in  one  spot. 

At  last  the  superior  weight  of  the  freshmen  began 
to  tell,  and  the  sophomores  were  slowly  swept  back- 
ward, contending  every  inch. 

Feeling  that  they  must  be  crowded  to  the  outside, 
Browning  gave  the  signal  for  them  to  break  and  make 
it  a  hand-to-hand  affair.  Then  he  grappled  with  Mer- 
riwell. 

Frank  was  ready,  and  he  willingly  left  the  line  as 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.        143 

the  freshmen  forged  onward.  He  was  anxious  for  an 
opportunity  of  seeing  just  what  sort  of  stuff  the  king 
of  the  sophomores  was  made  of,  and  this  was  his 
chance. 

Finding  that  they  could  not  hold  the  freshmen  back, 
the  sophs  had  each  singled  out  a  man,  and  the  contest 
became  hand  to  hand. 

In  a  few  moments  several  parties  were  down,  and 
some  of  them  rolled  from  the  sidewalk  into  the  street. 

Now  that  they  had  been  forced  to  do  battle,  the 
sophs  were  desperate,  and  they  sailed  in  like  a  lot  of 
tigers. 

Rattleton  found  himself  pitted  against  Andy  Emery, 
and  Emery  had  the  reputation  of  being  as  full  of  grit  as 
a  bulldog.  He  was  on  the  'Varsity  crew,  and  he  had 
a  back  and  shoulders  which  were  the  admiration  of 
those  who  had  seen  him  strip  to  the  buff. 

Emery  had  a  quick  temper  and  a  strong  arm.  He 
grappled  with  Harry,  lifted  him  off  his  feet  and  tried 
to  throw  him,  but  the  freshman  came  down  on  his  feet 
like  a  cat. 

A  second  later  Emery  was  astonished  to  feel  his 
own  feet  flung  into  the  air,  and  he  could  not  help  fall- 
ing, but  he  clung  to  his  antagonist  and  they  went  down 
together. 

Over  and  over  they  rolled,  each  striving  to  get  on 


144       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

top.  They  were  soon  off  the  sidewalk  and  into  the 
street. 

Emery  was  furious,  for  he  felt  that  his  dress  suit 
was  the  same  as  ruined,  and  he  uttered  some  very  sav- 
age language. 

"That's  right,"  chuckled  Harry.  "Cuss  a  little- 
it  may  help  you." 

It  seemed  to,  for  Emery  finally  succeeded  in  getting 
astride  Rattleton  and  holding  him  down  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. He  was  soon  pulled  off  by  another  freshman, 
and  the  merry  war  went  on. 

Little  Tad  Homer  was  right  in  the  hottest  scrim- 
mage, and  he  proved  formidable  for  the  freshmen,  de- 
spite his  size.  He  had  a  way  of  darting  under  them 
and  tripping  them  up,  then  getting  away  before  he 
could  be  grappled. 

Dismal  Jones  was  quoting  Scripture  and  doing  his 
best  to  make  himself  felt  by  the  sophomores.  Jones 
was  a  character.  His  parents  were  "shouting  Metho- 
dists," and  they  intended  him  for  the  ministry.  He 
had  a  long,  sad  face,  but  he  was  full  of  deviltry,  and 
it  was  very  seldom  that  the  freshmen  entered  into  any 
affair  against  the  sophomores  that  he  was  not  on  hand 
and  interested. 

"Lay  on  and  spare  not!"  he  cried,  after  the  style  of 
a  camp-meeting  revivalist.  "If  the  wicked  entice  thee, 
consent  thou  not  Get  behind  me,  Satan!  Brothers, 


Freshman  Against  Sophomore.        145 

oh,  my  dear  brothers !  it  makes  my  heart  sad  and  weary 
to  see  so  much  wicked  strife  and  contention." 

Punch  Swallows,  the  red-headed  soph,  found  him- 
self pitted  against  Lucy  Little.  Despite  his  name,  Lit- 
tle was  not  a  "sissy,"  and  he  was  no  mean  antagonist, 
as  Punch  found  out.  It  was  nip  and  tuck  between 
them,  and  neither  seemed  to  have  the  best  of  it. 

Some  of  the  sophs  were  able  to  down  their  men,  but 
they  were  so  outnumbered  by  the  freshmen  that  they 
could  not  hold  an  advantage  very  long. 

The  struggle  between  Browning  and  Merriwell 
waxed  furious.  The  big  sophomore  exerted  himself 
to  his  utmost,  and  he  found  that  it  was  necessary  that 
he  should  do  so  if  he  had  any  thought  of  holding  his 
own  with  the  freshman  leader. 

Frank  knew  all  the  time  that  he  was  pitted  against 
a  hard  man,  and  so  his  muscles  were  strained  and  his 
serves  were  taut. 

"Now,  fresh,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do  for  you," 
Browning  said,  as  he  made  a  mighty  effort  to  land 
Frank  on  his  back. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "I  will 
not  forget  your  kindness." 

"You  are  not  the  only  one."  panted  Browning. 
"There  are  others." 

"Are  you  going  to  the  party  this  evening?"  chuckled 
Frank, 


146       Freshman  Against  Sophomore. 

"Not  till  I  have  done  you  up,  my  friend  with  the 
swelled  head." 

"Then  you  expect  to  be  rather  late?" 

"We'll  see!" 

Frank  resorted  to  all  the  tricks  he  knew,  but  Brown- 
ing was  familiar  with  every  one  of  them.  They  gave 
up  trying  to  down  each  other  by  main  strength,  and 
science  cut  quite  a  figure  in  their  battle. 

At  length  Browning  got  Frank  foul,  and  to  his  dis- 
may the  leader  of  the  freshmen  felt  himself  falling. 
Browning  fell  with  him,  a  cry  of  triumph  coming  to 
his  lips. 

That  cry  turned  to  an  exclamation  of  dismay,  for 
Merriwell  seemed  to  twist  about  in  the  air,  and  they  fell 
side  by  side  on  the  ground.  In  a  twinkling  they  were 
at  it  again,  and  over  and  over  they  went,  till  they 
finally  stopped  and  got  upon  their  feet  together. 

"Very  good  thus  far,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "But  I 
see  your  wind  will  not  hold  out.  I  am  bound  to  do 
you  in  the  end." 

That  was  the  very  thing  Browning  feared. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  he  said  as  he  broke 
Frank's  grip.  "This  may  settle  the  whole  business." 

He  struck  hard  and  straight  at  Merriwell's  face! 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

JUBILANT   FRESHMEN. 

Spat! 

Merriwell  staggered. 

"Down  you  go!" 

Browning  followed  the  freshman  closely,  launching 
out  again,  with  the  full  expectation  that  the  second 
blow  would  be  a  settler. 

Frank  had  been  taken  slightly  off  his  guard,  so  that 
he  had  failed  in  getting  away  from  the  first  blow,  but 
he  skillfully  ducked  the  second,  countering  as  the  king's 
fist  passed  over  his  shoulder. 

Browning  reeled  backward,  having  received  a  terrific 
crack  on  the  ear. 

If  Frank  had  not  been  slightly  dazed  he  might  have 
followed  the  sophomore  closely,  but  he  was  a  bit  slow 
in  getting  after  Bruce. 

For  a  few  seconds  the  boys  gave  an  exhibition  of 
scientific  sparring  which  would  have  proved  very  inter- 
esting to  their  comrades  if  all  had  not  been  too  busy  to 
watch  them. 

Frank  Merriwell  contiuued  to  laugh,  and  it  had  been 


148  Jubilant  Freshmen. 

said  at  Yale  that  he  was  most  dangerous  in  an  encoun- 
ter when  he  laughed. 

"You  came  near  doing  it,  Browning,"  he  admitted, 
"but  it  was  rather  tricky  on  your  part.  I  wasn't  look- 
ing for  a  fight." 

"You  will  get  many  things  you  are  not  looking  for 
before  you  have  been  at  Yale  much  longer,"  returned 
the  king. 

"Think  so?" 

"Dead  sure." 

The  two  lads  seemed  to  be  very  evenly  matched, 
save  that  Merriwell  was  the  more  catlike  on  his  feet. 
Browning  was  solid,  and  it  took  a  terrific  blow  to 
stagger  him.  Merriwell  was  plainly  the  more  scien- 
tific. He  could  get  in  and  away  from  his  foe  in  a 
most  successful  manner,  but  he  saw  that  in  the  con- 
fined limits  of  a  ring  Browning's  rush  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  escape. 

What  the  result  of  this  encounter  might  have  been 
cannot  be  told,  for  two  freshmen  suddenly  appeared 
and  gave  the  alarm  that  at  least  a  hundred  sophomores 
were  coming  in  a  body  to  aid  their  comrades. 

A  moment  later  the  sophs  appeared,  hurrying  along 
the  street  toward  the  scene  of  the  encounter. 

"  'Umpty-seven !     'Umpty-seven !  Rah!  rah!  'rah!" 

Then  the  signal  was  given  for  the  freshmen  to  break 
away  and  take  to  flight,  which  they  promptly  did. 


Jubilant  Freshmen.  149 

Some  of  the  sophs  attempted  to  ding  to  their  antag- 
onists, but  such  momentary  captives  were  quickly  res- 
cued by  other  freshmen,  and  away  the  entire  body 
raced,  scattering  in  many  directions. 

"  'Umpty-eight !  'Umpty-eight !"  defiantly  yelled  the 
freshmen. 

The  sophomores  gave  pursuit,  bent  on  revenge. 

A  little  squad  of  freshmen  plunged  into  Mrs.  Har- 
rington's, slammed  the  door  in  the  faces  of  a  party  of 
pursuing  sophomores,  turned  the  key,  and  made  a  bar- 
ricade. 

The  sophomores  were  so  aroused  that  they  deliber- 
ately stormed  the  door,  which  shook  before  a  shower 
of  blows. 

Mrs.  Harrington  came  running  out  into  the  hall. 

"Good  land!  Good  land!  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this?"  she  wildly  cried. 

"It  is  a  dreadful  affair,  Mrs.  Harrington,"  dolefully 
declared  Dismal  Jones.  "We  have  been  attacked  and 
treated  shamefully  by  those  ruffianly  sophomores.  We 
were  forced  to  flee,  fly,  flew  for  our  lives,  and  now 
they  are  trying  to  get  in  here  and  murder  us.  Oh,  it 
is  a  very,  very  sad  affair!" 

"So  it's  those  nasty  softmores !"  exclaimed  the  good 
lady,  elevating  her  thin  nose  and  looking  highly  in- 
censed. 


150  Jubilant  Freshmen. 

"Yes,"  groaned  Dismal.  "Them  is  they,  Mrs.  Har- 
rington." 

"Well,  if  there  are  ruffians  and  wretches  on  the  face 
of  the  'arth,  it's  softmores!"  snapped  the  landlady. 
"Trying  to  git  in  here,  be  they?  Well,  we'll  see  about 
that!" 

Away  she  went  to  the  kitchen.  In  less  than  a  min- 
ute she  appeared  with  a  big  pan  of  steaming  water. 
Upstairs  she  went  in  a  hurry,  and  some  of  the  de- 
lighted lads  followed  her. 

"Oh,  my!  oh,  my!"  gurgled  Rattleton,  convulsed 
with  laughter.  "Won't  she  make  it  hot  for  the  sophs !" 

"She  is  going  to  heap  coals  of  fire  upon  their  heads," 
said  Jones. 

"It'll  be  something  more  effective  than  coals  of  fire," 
chuckled  Harry.  "How  the  poor  sophs  will  hatter 
and  scowl — I  mean  scatter  and  howl!" 

Mrs.  Harrington  opened  the  window  directly  over 
the  front  steps.  She  looked  down  and  saw  a  crowd  of 
angry  sophomores  trying  to  beat  in  her  door.  Then 
she  reached  out  and  deliberately  turned  the  hot  water 
upon  their  heads. 

What  a  howl  went  up !  How  those  fellows  did  scat- 
ter !  They  fell  over  each  other  in  the  effort  to  get  away 
as  quickly  as  possible. 

And  from  several  open  windows  the  freshmen 
jeered  and  scoffed  at  them. 


Jubilant  Freshmen.  151 

"Oh,  soph — oh,  my  poor  soph!"  cried  many  taunt- 
ing voices. 

"Good-evening,  gentlemen !"  called  Bandy  Robinson. 
"Shall  I  toss  you  down  soap  and  towels?" 

"Say,  fellows,"  cried  Lucy  Little,  "don't  you  think 
it  is  rather  warm  out  this  evening?" 

"Hello!  hello!"  shouted  Rattleton.  "Has  it  been 
raining,  or  did  we  have  a  small  shower?" 

Then  Merriwell's  beautiful  baritone  voice  pitched  the 
chorus  of  a  familiar  negro  melody,  in  which  the  tri- 
umphant and  delighted  freshmen  joined : 

"Git  erway  from  de  window,  mah  love  an'  mah  dove ! 
Git  erway  from  de  window — don't  yeh  heah? 
Come  eround  some  odder  night, 
For  dere's  gwine  ter  be  er  fight, 
An'  dar'll  be  razzers  er-flyin'  through  de  air." 

The  sophomores  retired  to  a  safe  distance  and  then 
challenged  the  freshmen  to  come  out  and  fight.  They 
called  them  cowards  and  other  things,  but  the  fresh- 
men laughed  and  taunted  them  in  return. 

"Is — er — King  Browning  present?"  yelled  a  fresh- 
tian,  leaning  out  of  a  window.  "If  so,  I'd  like  to  in- 
quire if  he  means  to  attend  the  party  this  evening." 

"If  he  does,"  said  another  freshman,  "he  will  be 
able  to  obtain  a  dress  suit  down  at  Cohen's,  price  'von 
tollar  ber  efenin'  to  shentlemen.'  " 

"Oh,  you  wait  till  we  get  at  you  fresh  ducks!" 


152  Jubilant  Freshmen. 

shouted  back  an  angry  sophomore.  "We'll  make  you 
sweat  for  this !" 

"Go  on!  you're  only  fooling!"  sang  the  freshmen. 

"We'll  show  you  we're  not  fooling!"  excitedly  de- 
clared Punch  Swallow.  "We'll  scalp  a  few  of  you!" 

"Ah!"  cried  Bandy  Robinson.  "He  is  a  bad  man! 
Methinks  I  can  detect  his  cloven  foot." 

"You're  wrong,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "But  you 
may  have  been  near  enough  at  some  time  to  detect  his 
cloven  breath!" 

The  three  freshmen  who  were  leaning  out  of  one 
of  the  upper  windows  repeated  in  chorus : 

"Punch,  brother — punch  with  care, 
Punch  in  the  presence  of  the  passenjair." 

Another  freshman  shouted: 

"Say,  Swallows,  give  us  a  lock  of  your  hair.  It'll 
save  the  expense  of  gas  in  my  room." 

"I'd  like  a  lock  of  it,  too,"  declared  another.  "I'm 
troubled  with  rats,  and  I  haven't  any  paris  green 
handy." 

"Oh,  rats!"  yelled  twenty  voices. 

"Hello,  Parker!"  cried  Little.  "I  hear  you  were 
held  up  last  night?  Is  it  true?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Rattleton.  "He'd  been  down  to 
Morey's,  and  that  was  the  way  he  got  home." 

"But  oh,  what  a  difference  in  the  morning,"  sang 
the  freshmen. 


Jubilant  Freshmen.  153 

"Ask  Rattleton  if  he  means  to  join  the  Indians?" 
called  a  soph. 

"Or  will  he  Sioux  for  damages  ?"  put  in  another. 

"Oh,  say!"  groaned  Dismal  Jones.  "That's  the 
worst  I  ever  heard !  It's  enough  to  give  one  heart  fail- 
ure!" 

"Come  out  and  fight!  Come  out  and  fight!"  urged 
the  sophomores.  "You  don't  dare  to  come  out  and 
fight!" 

"You  will  have  to  excuse  us  this  evening,  gentle- 
men," said  Merriwell,  suavely.  "We  have  done  our 
best  to  entertain  you,  and  we  will  see  you  again  at 
some  other  date." 

"You  are  certain  to  see  me  again,"  assented  Brown- 
ing. "You  ran  away,  or  we  would  have  settled  mat- 
ters between  us  this  evening.  As  it  is,  I  am  going  to 
watch  my  opportunity  to  do  you  fairly  and  squarely. 
When  I  am  done  with  you  one  of  us  will  be  beautifully 
licked." 

"And  that  one  will  not  be  King  Bruce,"  declared 
Andy  Emery. 

"Say!  say!  say!"  spluttered  Rattleton.  "I'll  go  you 
a  shot  that  it  is !  I'll  stand  you  a  supper  for  twenty  at 
any  place  you'll  name  that  Merriwell  knocks  the  ever- 
lasting stuffing  out  of  Browning." 

"Done!"  returned  Emery. 


154  Jubilant  Freshmen. 

"You  name  plime  and  tace — I  mean  time  and  place, 
and  we'll  be  there,  you  bet !"  declared  Harry.  "All  we 
want  is  a  fair  deal." 

"You'll  get  that,'*  assured  Browning.  "This  little 
affair  shall  be  arranged  very  soon." 

"The  sooner  the  better.  Don't  delay  on  our  ac- 
count." 

The  sophomores,  seeing  it  was  useless  to  linger  there 
and  be  taunted  by  the  freshmen,  began  to  stroll  away 
one  by  one. 

Up  in  Merriwell's  room  Rattleton  got  down  his 
banjo  and  began  to  put  it  in  tune.  A  merry  party 
gathered  there.  One  of  the  strings  snapped,  and  as  he 
was  putting  on  another  Harry  fell  to  laughing. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  asked  Bandy  Rob- 
inson. 

"Down  at  the  table  to-night,"  explained  Harry, 
"Merriwell  was  poking  his  finger  into  the  butter.  I 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing  that  for,  and  he  said  he 
was  only  feeling  its  muscle." 

The  boys  who  dined  in  the  house  appreciated  that, 
and  there  was  a  general  laugh.  Then  Harry  adjusted 
the  string  and  placed  the  banjo  in  tune.  Pretty  soon 
the  boys  were  singing  "Bingo,"  "Upidee,"  "Nellie 
Was  a  Lady,"  and  other  college  songs.  Every  one  of 


Jubilant  Freshmen.  155 

them  seemed  familiar  with  "Paddy  Duffy's  Cart"  and 
its  pretty  chorus : 

"Twinkling  stars  are  laughing,  love, 

Laughing  on  you  and  me, 
While  your  bright  eyes  look  into  mine, 
Peeping  stars  they  seem  to  be." 

Such  glorious  days  and  such  merry  nights  will 
never  come  again  to  those  who  have  known  them. 
Here's  to  good  old  Yale! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE   RUSH. 

At  last  the  sophomores  were  thoroughly  aroused. 
The  freshmen  had  long  been  carrying  things  with  a 
high  hand,  but  the  rushing  of  a  lot  of  them  who  were 
in  dress  suits  and  bound  for  a  swell  party  was  the  straw 
that  broke  the  camel's  back. 

An  indignation  meeting  was  held,  and  certain  fresh- 
men were  placed  under  the  ban. 

Of  these  Merriwell  was  the  leader,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  every  effort  must  be  made  to  "take  the  starch"  out 
jf  him.  That  Browning  intended  to  "do"  Merriwell 
was  well  known,  but  some  of  the  others  proposed  to  get 
at  him. 

"Wait,"  advised  Bruce— "wait  till  I  have  had  it  out 
with  that  fellow.  Then  you  may  do  whatever  you  like 
with  him.  But  I  feel  it  a  solemn  duty  to  settle  our  lit- 
tle affair  before  anybody  else  tackles  him." 

The  freshmen  were  getting  their  ball  team  in  condi- 
tion for  the  coming  season,  and  they  were  practicing 
as  often  as  possible.  Frank  was  interested  in  the  team, 
and  it  was  said  by  those  who  watched  him  that  he 
seemed  to  have  the  making  of  a  pitcher  in  him.  He 


The  Rush.  157 

had  sharp  curves  and  good  control.  If  he  had  a  head, 
they  said,  he  was  all  right.  But  this  was  something 
that  could  not  be  decided  till  he  had  been  tried  in  a 
game. 

Another  freshman  by  the  name  of  Walter  Gordon 
seemed  certain  to  be  the  regular  pitcher  of  the  team. 
He  had  a  record,  as  he  had  shown,  while  Merriwell 
would  say  nothing  about  what  he  had  done  in  the  way 
of  pitching. 

The  students  had  found  it  extremely  difficult  to  find 
out  much  about  Merriwell,  as  he  persistently  avoided 
talking  about  himself.  If  he  had  been  one  of  the  kind 
of  fellows  who  go  around  and  brag  about  themselves 
and  what  they  have  done  he  would  not  have  aroused  so 
much  interest ;  but  the  very  fact  that  he  would  not  talk 
of  himself  made  the  students  curious  to  know  some- 
thing of  his  history. 

In  a  vague  sort  of  way  it  became  known  that  al- 
though he  lived  in  simple  style,  like  any  freshman 
whose  parents  were  not  wealthy,  he  had  a  fortune  in 
his  own  right  and  had  traveled  extensively  in  various 
parts  of  the  world. 

Frank's  silence  seemed  to  cast  an  air  of  mystery 
about  him,  and  that  air  of  mystery  made  him  all  the 
more  interesting,  for  the  human  mind  is  ever  curious 
to  peer  into  anything  that  has  the  flavor  of  a  secret. 

The  sophomores  had  been  rushed  by  the  freshmen, 


158  The  Rush. 

and  they  resolved  to  retaliate  in  a  similar  manner.  On 
Saturday  afternoons  the  freshmen  ball  team  practiced, 
and  Saturday  was  at  hand.  It  would  be  an  opportune 
time  to  meet  the  youngsters  and  make  it  warm  for 
them. 

The  affair  was  carefully  planned,  but  wind  of  it 
reached  the  freshmen.  As  a  result,  the  youngsters  pre- 
pared for  what  they  knew  must  take  place.  There 
could  be  no  such  thing  as  avoiding  it,  so  when  Satur- 
day noon  came  they  dressed  themselves  in  their  old 
clothes  and  started  for  the  park,  going  out  as  much  as 
possible  in  a  body. 

When  the  park  was  reached  it  was  found  that  the 
sophomores  were  there  ahead  of  them.  More  than 
that,  the  sophs  had  closed  and  fastened  the  gate,  and 
they  proposed  to  hold  it.  They  taunted  the  freshmen, 
and  told  them  they  would  have  to  climb  the  fence  if 
they  hoped  to  get  into  the  park. 

Then  there  was  a  consultation  among  the  freshmen. 
"We'll  have  to  make  a  rush,"  was  the  universal  de- 
cision. 

Frank  looked  the  ground  over,  and  he  decided  that 
an  ordinary  rush  would  not  be  successful,  for  that  was 
the  very  thing  the  sophomores  were  expecting.  But 
there  seemed  no  other  way  of  getting  into  the  park 
unless  they  climbed  the  fence,  and  not  a  man  thought 
of  doing  such  a  thing  as  that. 


The  Rush.  159 

The  sophomores  formed  in  front  of  the  gate,  five 
deep.  In  the  front  rank  of  the  sophs  were  Browning 
and  two  'Varsity  crew  men.  Bruce  was  in  the  middle, 
with  the  rowers  on  either  side.  The  ends  were  two 
men  from  the  football  team. 

Thus  the  very  first  line  of  the  sophomores  made  a 
formidable  array,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  some  of 
the  freshmen  were  chicken-hearted. 

With  assistance,  Frank  marshaled  the  freshmen,  re- 
serving a  place  in  the  first  line  for  himself.  While 
that  might  be  considered  a  position  of  honor,  it  was  the 
most  dangerous,  and  every  fellow  there  knew  this 
rush  was  to  be  no  baby  play. 

For  companions  Merriwell  selected  Dismal  Jones, 
Jack  Diamond,  Puss  Parker  and  a  big,  broad-shoul- 
dered fellow  by  the  name  of  Hovey. 

Rattleton  and  Robinson,  together  with  a  dozen 
others,  were  appointed  as  "scouts."  It  was  their  duty 
to  "hook"  out  men  from  the  ranks  of  the  sophs  and 
break  the  force  of  the  enemy's  rush  as  far  as  possible. 

The  sophomores  had  likewise  appointed  a  dozen 
scouts,  strong,  active  fellows,  every  one  of  whom  had 
shown  ability  as  an  athlete. 

The  sophs  prepared  quickly  for  the  rush,  but  it  took 
more  time  to  get  the  freshmen  in  order.  In  this  the 
seniors  rendered  not  a  little  assistance. 

When  everything  was  ready  the  order  was  given, 


1 60  The  Rush. 

and  the  freshmen  started  forward.  Those  in  the  front 
Hne  leaned  back  at  a  slant,  and  those  behind  pushed. 

At  the  same  time  the  sophomores  moved  toward  the 
freshmen,  and  then  there  were  shouts,  taunts  and  jeers. 
Each  side  gave  its  own  cheer. 

"This  is  the  last  of  the  freshmen !"  cried  the  sopho- 
mores. "We'll  wipe  them  off  the  earth.  Good-by, 
f reshies !" 

"  'Umpty-seven  will  never  be  heard  of  again,"  re- 
turned the  freshmen.  "They'll  be  angels  right  away." 

Then  the  two  bodies  came  together  with  a  frightful 
impact.  They  had  locked  their  arms  about  each  other's 
waists,  and  there  they  clung,  while  they  pressed  upon 
each  other  with  all  their  might. 

For  a  little  time  they  swayed  and  swayed.  There 
were  screams  and  cries  of  pain.  They  wavered  and 
turned  about,  but  still  the  crush  continued. 

The  scouts  were  getting  in  their  work,  hooking  their 
bent  arms  around  the  necks  of  tfieir  opponents  and 
yanking  them  out  of  the  line. 

Before  long  the  rush  turned  into  a  general  pushing 
and  hauling.  Freshman  pitted  himself  again  sopho- 
more, and  a  score  of  wrestling  matches  were  in  prog- 
ress. 

Merriwell  and  Browning  had  clinched  at  the  outset, 
but  it  was  a  long  time  before  they  could  do  anything 
but  cling  to  each  other.  When  they  did  have  an  op- 


The  Rush.  161 

portunity  another  soph,  a  scout,  spoiled  the  match  by 
making  a  low  tackle  on  Frank  and  flinging  him  to  the 
ground.  Browning  came  down  heavily  on  the  leader 
^f  the  freshmen,  but  he  immediately  jumped  up,  crying : 

"That  was  not  a  square  deal.     Let's  have  it  over." 

But  the  breath  had  been  knocked  out  of  Frank  with 
the  force  of  the  fall,  and  he  fell  back  twice  as  he  strug- 
gled to  arise. 

"Are  you  hurt  ?"  asked  Browning. 

"No,"  panted  Frank,  who  could  dimly  see  his  op- 
ponent through  a  thick  haze  which  seemed  to  hang 
before  his  eyes. 

"Then  why  don't  you  get  up  ?" 

"I — I'm  going  to." 

Setting  his  teeth,  he  did  so,  but  Rattleton  caught 
Browning  by  the  collar  and  flung  him  aside  as  the  big 
soph  sprang  at  Frank. 

"You  are  hurt,  old  man!"  insisted  Harry.  "I  saw 
the  fellow  when  he  tripped  you.  It  wasn't  a  fair  thing. 
You  are  in  no  condition  to  meet  Browning  now.  Wait 
till  you  get  your  wind." 

"I  must  meet  him !"  cried  Frank.  "He'll  say  he  did 
me  up  if  I  do  not." 

"Then  he'll  lie.     It's  all  right.     You  do  as  I  say." 

Frank  tried  to  resist,  but  Rattleton  dragged  him 
aside,  being  able  to  do  so  because  Browning  found 
h/jnself  occupied  by  a  little  freshman  who  stuffily 


1 62  The  Rush. 

blocked  his  way,  declaring  that  Merriwell  should  have 
a  show. 

Frank  was  more  than  disgusted  by  the  result  of  the 
affair.  He  felt  that  he  must  have  it  out  with  Brown- 
ing then  and  there,  and  he  made  desperate  attempts  to 
break  from  Harry.  Ordinarily  he  would  have  suc- 
ceeded with  the  greatest  ease,  but  the  fall  had  robbed 
him  of  his  strength. 

Then  came  the  knowledge  that  the  freshmen  had 
been  repulsed.  The  sophomores  were  cheering  wildly, 
and  the  unfortunate  freshmen  were  downcast. 

"They've  held  us  out,"  muttered  Harry,  bitterly. 
"It  begins  to  look  as  if  we'll  have  to  climb  over  the 
fence  if  we  get  inside." 

"What's  that?"  cried  Frank,  bracing  up  a  little. 
"Climb  the  fence?  Not  much!" 

"Then  how'll  we  get  in?     Will  you  tell  me  that?" 

"We'll  find  a  way." 

"Wind  a  fay!"  spluttered  Harry  excitedly.  "It's 
easy  enough  to  say  that,  but  I  don't  believe  we  can 
do  it." 

"Oh,  freshies!  oh,  you  poor  freshies!"  tauntingly 
cried  the  victors.  "Don't  you  wish  you  could?  But 
you  can't  do  it,  you  know !" 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  muttered  Merriwell, 
brushing  the  hair  back  from  his  eyes.  "I  didn't  think 
we  could  do  it  in  this  way.  But  there  are  others." 


The  Rush.  163 

"You'll  be  a  dandy  if  you  devise  a  way,"  declared 
Little. 

Diamond,  with  his  coat  off,  his  vest  ripped  up  the 
back  and  his  shirt  torn  open  at  the  throat,  was  regard- 
ing the  jeering  sophomores  with  a  fierce,  sullen  look. 
Evidently  he  was  ready  for  anything.  He  glanced  at 
Merriwell,  but  said  nothing. 

Frank  called  the  freshmen  around  him. 

"Look  here,  fellows,"  he  said,  "we  are  bound  to  go 
into  that  park,  and  we're  going  through  that  gate." 

"That  sounds  well,"  said  Dismal  Jones,  who  wore 
an  unusually  long  face,  "but  I'm  inclined  to  believe 
we're  not  in  it  with  that  crowd." 

"Guess  again!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "Now  listen  to 
me,  and  I  don't  want  one  of  you  to  look  around.  You 
might  arouse  suspicion  if  you  did.  Close  to  the  wall 
there  lies  a  long  stick  of  timber." 

"Well?" 

"We'll  use  it." 

"How?" 

"As  a  battering-ram." 

"To  batter  down  the  gate?  Why,  how  are  we  to 
get  to  the  gate?" 

"The  timber  will  take  us  there,  and  it  will  open  the 
gate.  When  I  give  the  word  we  will  rush  for  it,  pick 
it  up,  and  sail  right  into  the  sophs.  I'll  bet  anything 


164  The  Rush. 

they  get  out  of  the  way  when  they  see  us  coming  with 
that.  It  will  take  them  by  surprise." 

"  'Rah !  'rah !  'rah !"  yelled  several  of  the  enthusi- 
astic freshmen. 

The  sophomores  yelled  back  at  them  in  derision. 

"They  think  we  are  beaten  now,"  said  Diamond, 
whose  face  had  lighted  up  somewhat  as  he  listened  to 
Merriwell's  plan.  "If  we  only  can  get  the  best  of  them 
that  way !" 

"We  can  and  we  will/'  assured  Frank.  "Those 
who  can't  get  hold  of  the  timber  may  look  out  that 
they  don't  hook  our  men  away  from  it.  That  is  all." 

The  freshmen  became  eager  for  the  effort,  but 
Frank  held  them  back  till  he  was  certain  they  all  under- 
stood just  what  was  to  be  done. 

"Are  you  ready?"  he  finally  asked. 

"All  ready,"  was  the  eager  reply. 

"Then  go !" 

The  sophomores  were  astonished  to  see  the  freshmen 
suddenly  whirl  all  together  and  rush  toward  the  wall 

"They're  going  over !     They're  going  over !" 

The  sophomores  shouted  their  satisfaction  and  de- 
light, fully  convinced  that  they  had  forced  the  fresh- 
men to  abandon  all  hope  of  going  through  the  gate. 

Then  came  a  surprise  for  them. 

The  freshmen  caught  up  the  timber,  and  Merriwell 
cried : 


The  Rush.  165 

"Charge!" 

Like  a  tornado  they  bore  down  on  the  men  near  the 
gate,  toward  which  the  timber  was  directed. 

With  cries  of  amazement  the  alarmed  sophomores 
broke  and  scattered  before  the  oncoming  freshmen. 

Crash! 

The  timber  struck  the  gate,  bursting  it  open  in- 
stantly, and  the  tirumphant  freshmen  swarmed  into 
the  park,  cheering  wildly. 

"Hurrah  for  'Umpty-eight !"  yelled  Bandy  Robin- 
son, turning  a  handspring.  "We  are  the  boys  to  do 
'em!" 

"Hurrah  for  Frank  Merriwell !"  shouted  Harry  Rat- 
tfeton,  his  face  beaming  with  joy.  "It  was  his  scheme 
that  did  it." 

"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!"  roared  the  freshmen. 
"'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!" 

Then  Frank  felt  himself  lifted  to  the  shoulders  of 
his  enthusiastic  admirers  and  carried  to  the  home  plate 
of  the  ball  ground,  where  the  freshmen  cheered  again 
and  again. 

The  sophomores  were  filled  with  rage  and  chagrin. 

"That  was  the  blamedest  trick  I  ever  heard  of  in 
all  my  life!"  declared  Andy  Emery.  "We  weren't 
looking  for  anything  of  the  kind." 

"And  we  have  Merriwell  to  thank  for  it!"  snapped 


1 66  The  Rush. 

Evan  Hartwick.  "He's  full  of  tricks  as  an  egg  is 
full  of  meat." 

"By  Jawve!"  said  Willis  Paulding,  who  had  man» 
aged  to  keep  out  of  harm's  way  during  the  entire  af- 
fair. "I  think  somebody  ought  to  do  something  to 
that  fella w — I  really  do,  don't  yer  know." 

"Suppose  you  try  to  see  what  you  can  do  with  him," 
grinned  Tad  Homer.  "You  ought  to  be  able  to  do 
something." 

"Aw — really  you  will  hawve  to  excuse  me!"  ex- 
claimed Willis  in  alarm.  "I  hawdly  think  I  could 
match  his  low  cunning,  don't  yer  understand." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  understand,"  nodded  Homer,  signifi- 
cantly. "It  takes  a  man  to  go  up  against  Merriwell." 

"I  hope  you  don't  mean  to  insinuate " 

"Oh,  no!"  interrupted  Tad.     "I  have  said  it." 

"Eh?  I  hawdly  think  I  understand,  don't  yer 
know." 

"Think  it  over,"  advised  the  little  soph  as  he  tnrned 
away. 

It  is  probable  that  Bruce  Browning  was  more  thor- 
oughly disgusted  than  any  of  his  friends. 

"Confound  it!"  he  thought.  "If  I'd  stuck  to  that 
fellow  and  done  him  up  anyway  he  wouldn't  have 
been  able  to  carry  out  this  trick.  If  he  is  given  any 
kind  of  a  show  he  is  bound  to  take  advantage  of  it" 

Bruce  felt  like  fighting. 


The  Rush.  167 

"I'm  going  in  there  and  lick  him,"  he  declared.  "I 
will  settle  this  matter  with  Merriwell  right  away." 

But  some  of  his  friends  were  more  cautious. 

"It  won't  do,"  declared  Puss  Parker. 

"Won't  do?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"It  might  be  done  under  cover  of  a  rush,  but  a 
single  fight  between  a  soph  and  a  fresh  under  such 
public  conditions  would  be  sure  to  get  them  both  in 
trouble." 

"I  don't  care  a  continental !  I've  stood  him  just  as 
long  as  I  can !  If  I  can  give  him  a  good  square  lick- 
ing I'll  stand  expulsion,  should  it  come  to  that!" 

They  saw  that  Browning  was  too  heated  to  pause 
for  sober  thought,  and  so  they  gathered  close  around 
him  and  forced  him  to  listen  to  reason. 

It  took  no  small  amount  of  argument  to  induce  the 
king  to  give  over  the  idea  of  going  onto  the  ball  field 
and  attacking  Merriwell,  but  he  was  finally  shown  the 
folly  of  such  a  course.  However,  he  vowed  over  and 
over  that  the  settlement  with  Merriwell  should  come 
very  soon. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ON    THE   BALL   FIELD. 

The  sophomores  went  in  to  watch  the  freshmen 
practice  and  incidentally  to  have  sport  with  them. 

Two  nines  had  been  selected,  one  being  the  regular 
freshman  team  and  the  other  picked  up  to  give  them 
practice. 

As  Merriwell  had  been  given  a  place  on  the  team  as 
reserve  pitcher,  his  services  were  not  needed  at  first, 
and  so  he  went  in  to  twirl  for  the  scrub  nine. 

Walter  Gordon  went  into  the  box  for  the  regular 
team,  and  he  expected  to  fool  the  irregulars  with,  ease. 
He  was  a  well-built  lad,  with  a  bang,  and  it  was  plain 
to  see  at  a  glance  that  he  was  stuck  on  himself.  He 
had  a  trick  of  posing  in  the  box,  and  he  delivered  the 
ball  with  a  flourish. 

The  scrub  team  did  not  have  many  batters,  and  so 
it  came  about  that  the  first  three  men  up  were  disposed 
of  in  one-two-three  order,  not  one  of  them  making  a 
safe  hit  or  reaching  first. 

Rattleton  had  vainly  endeavored  to  get  upon  the 
regular  team.  He  had  played  pretty  fast  ball  on  a 
country  nine,  but  he  was  somewhat  out  of  practice 


On  the  Ball  Field.  169 

and  he  had  not  made  a  first-class  showing,  so  he  had 
failed  in  his  ambition. 

He  went  into  catch  for  Merriwell,  and  they  had  ar- 
ranged a  code  of  signals  beforehand,  so  that  they  were 
all  prepared. 

There  was  no  affectation  about  Frank's  delivery,  bir 
the  first  man  on  the  list  of  the  regulars  found  Merri- 
well's  slow  drop  was  a  hard  ball  to  hit.  He  went  after 
two  of  them  before  he  saw  what  he  was  getting. 
Then  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he  would  get  under 
the  next  one  and  knock  the  peeling  off  it. 

He  got  under  it  all  right,  for  instead  of  being  a. 
drop  it  was  a  rise,  and  the  batter  struck  at  least  eigh- 
teen inches  below  it. 

"Well,  say,"  laughed  Gordon,  who  had  been  placed 
second  on  the  list  at  his  own  request.  "I'll  go  you 
something  he  doesn't  work  that  on  me." 

He  was  full  of  confidence  when  he  walked  up  to  the 
plate.  The  watching  sophomores  were  doing  their 
best  to  rattle  Merriwell,  and  it  seemed  that  he  must 
soon  get  nervous,  even  though  he  did  not  seem  to 
hear  any  of  the  jolly  that  was  being  flung  at  him. 

The  very  first  ball  seemed  to  be  just  where  Gordoi? 
wanted  it,  and  he  swung  at  it  with  all  his  strength. 
It  twisted  in  toward  him  and  passed  within  two  inches 
of  his  fingers. 

Gordon  looked  mildly  surprised,  but  he  was  still 


170  On  the  Ball  Field. 

confident  that  he  would  be  able  to  hit  the  next  one 
with  ease.  He  found  out  his  mistake  later  on  when 
he  went  after  an  out  drop  and  failed  to  come  within 
six  inches  of  it. 

Then  it  was  Gordon  who  grew  nervous.  He  did  not 
fancy  the  idea  of  being  fanned  out  by  his  rival,  and 
he  felt  that  he  must  make  connections  with  the  next 
one.  He  resolved  to  wait  for  a  good  one,  and  Frank 
fooled  him  by  putting  two  straight  ones  right  over 
the  center  of  the  plate.  Gordon  felt  sure  that  both 
would  be  curves,  and  so  he  offered  at  neither  of  them. 
The  umpire,  however,  who  was  a  particular  friend  of 
Gordon,  called  them  both  balls.  Then  Gordon  went 
after  the  next  ball,  which  was  a  raise,  but  found  noth- 
ing but  empty  air. 

The  third  man  was  easy,  and  he  fanned,  also,  making 
three  in  succession. 

Parker  punched  Browning  in  the  ribs. 

"Say,"  he  observed,  "I'll  go  you  two  to  one  that 
Merriwell  is  on  the  'Varsity  team  before  the  end  of  next 
season." 

"If  he  is  alive  he  may  be,"  returned  the  king,  grimly. 

Our  hero's  pitching  was  a  surprise  to  his  friends,  for 
until  that  day  he  had  not  seemed  to  let  himself  out. 
Even  then  he  did  not  appear  to  be  doing  his  best  work, 
and  one  who  watched  him  in  a  friendly  way  fancied 
he  might  do  still  better  if  forced  to  make  the  effort. 


On  the  Ball  Field.  17^ 

Walter  Gordon  was  filled  with  disgust  and  dismay. 

"He's  having  great  luck,"  muttered  Gordon.  "Why, 
I  don't  see  how  I  missed  a  ball  I  struck  at.  Every 
one  was  a  dead  easy  thing,  and  I  should  have  killed  any 
of  them." 

He  squirmed  as  he  heard  Burn  Putnam — familiarly 
called  Old  Put — the  manager  of  the  team,  compli- 
ment Merriwell  on  his  skillful  work. 

"I  fancy  I'll  be  able  to  use  you  more  than  I  thought 
I  should  at  first,  Merriwell,"  said  Putnam.  "We  can 
tell  more  about  that  in  the  future." 

"I've  got  to  strike  that  fellow  out,"  thought  Gor- 
don as  he  went  into  the  box. 

But  he  did  not.  Merriwell  came  first  to  bat  in 
the  second  inning,  and  he  sent  a  safe  single  into  right 
field,  deliberately  placing  it,  as  was  evident  to  every 
ball  player  present. 

Gordon  turned  green  with  anger,  and  then  he  became 
nervous.  To  add  to  his  nervousness,  Merriwell  ob- 
tained a  lead  from  first  and  stole  second  on  his  de- 
livery, getting  it  easily. 

But  that  was  not  the  end  of  Gordon's  woes,  for 
Merriwell  seemed  in  a  reckless  mood,  and  he  made  for 
third  on  the  next  pitch,  getting  it  on  a  beautiful  slide, 
although  the  catcher  made  an  attempt  to  throw  him 
out. 


172  On  the  Ball  Field. 

The  catcher  came  down  scowling,  and  Gordon  went 
to  meet  him,  asking  as  he  did  so : 

"What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  ought  to  have 
stopped  him  at  second  and  held  him  there." 

"I  ought  to  have  stopped  him !"  came  derisively  from 
the  disgusted  backstop.  "I  came  down  to  ask  you  if 
this  was  the  way  you  were  going  to  pitch  in  a  regular 
game.  Why,  that  fellow  is  getting  a  long  start  on 
your  delivery,  and  he  does  it  every  time.  You've  got 
to  stop  that  kind  of  business." 

For  some  moments  they  talked,  and  then  Gordon 
sulkily  walked  back  to  the  box.  He  tried  to  catch 
Frank  playing  off  third,  but  simply  wasted  time.  Then 
he  made  a  snap  delivery  and  hit  the  batter,  who  went 
down  to  first. 

By  this  time  Gordon  was  rattled,  and  he  sent  the 
next  ball  over  the  heart  of  the  plate.  The  batter  nailed 
•t  for  two  bags,  and  two  men  came  home. 

Gordon  walked  out  of  the  box  and  up  to  the  bench 
where  Old  Put  was  sitting. 

"I  am  sick,"  he  declared. 

He  looked  as  if  he  spoke  the  truth. 

"I  thought  something  was  the  matter  with  you,'"'  said 
the  manager.  "You're  white  as  a  sheet.  It's  folly  for 
you  to  practice  while  you  are  in  this  condition." 

Gordon  put  on  his  sweater  and  then  drew  his  coat 
over  that.  He  wandered  off  by  himself  and  sat  down. 


On  the  Ball  Field.  173 

"Hang  that  fellow  Merriwell !"  he  whispered  to  him- 
self. "I  never  thought  he  would  bother  me  so  much. 
I  am  beginning  to  hate  him.  .  He  is  too  cool  and  easy 
to  suit  me." 

The  practice  was  continued,  and  Merriwell  showed 
up  finely,  so  that  Old  Put  was  pleased. 

The  sophomores  quit  trying  to  have  sport  with  the 
freshmen,  as  it  happened  that  two  of  the  professors 
had  wandered  into  the  park  and  were  looking  on  from 
a  distance. 

Browning  saw  them. 

"Why  are  they  out  here?"  he  snapped.  "Never 
knew  'em  to  come  before.  I  won't  even  get  a  chance  to 
talk  to  Merriwell." 

"Better  keep  away  from  him  this  afternoon,"  cau- 
aoned  Hartwick.  "He  can't  escape  you,  and  there  is 
plenty  of  time." 

"That's  so,"  agreed  Bruce.  "But  I  hate  to  think 
how  he  is  crowing  to  himself  over  the  way  the  freshies 
got  into  the  park.  I'd  like  to  take  the  starch  out  of 
him  at  once." 

Hartwick  induced  Browning  to  leave  the  park,  and 
the  departure  of  the  king  caused  the  sophomores  to 
wander  away  in  small  groups. 

As  a  general  thing  they  were  discussing  Merriweli 
his  position  with  the  freshmen,  and  his  pitching.  Some 
insisted  that  he  was  not  a  pitcher  and  would  never 


174  On  the  Ball  Field. 

make  one,  while  others  were  equally  confident  that  he 
was  bound  to  become  a  great  twirler  some  day. 

Some  of  the  groups  discussed  the  antagonism  be- 
tween Merriwell  and  Browning,  and  all  were  confident 
that  the  king  would  do  the  freshman  when  he  got  him- 
self into  condition.  It  was  not  strange  that  they  be- 
lieved so,  for  they  remembered  how  Bruce  had  knocked 
out  Kid  Lajoie,  who  was  a  professional. 

Browning  himself  proceeded  directly  to  his  rooms, 
where  he  sat  himself  down  and  fell  to  thinking.  Twice 
had  he  been  up  against  Merriwell,  and  he  had  found 
out  that  the  leader  of  the  freshmen  was  no  easy  thing. 
In  neither  struggle  had  he  obtained  an  advantage 
through  his  own  unaided  efforts,  and  in  this  last  affair 
he  had  felt  that  he  was  losing  his  wind,  while  Merri- 
well seemed  as  fresh  as  ever  till  he  was  thrown  by  a 
third  party. 

"That's  where  I  am  not  yet  his  match,"  Bruce  so- 
berly decided.  "If  I  were  fortunate  enough  to  land  a 
knockout  blow  with  my  left  at  the  outset  I'd  finish  him 
easily;  but  if  he  should  play  me  and  keep  out  of  my 
reach  he  might  get  me  winded  so  he  could  finally  get 
the  best  of  it.  I  must  work  off  more  flesh." 

Having  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  Browning  was  de- 
cidedly glad  that  his  friends  had  kept  him  from  closing 
in  on  Merriwell  and  forcing  a  fight  on  the  ball  field. 

"Another  week  will  do  it,"  Bruce  thought.     "No 


On  the  Ball  Field.  175 

matter  what  is  said,  I'll  not  meet  that  fellow  till  I  am 
his  match — till  I  am  more  than  his  match,  for  I  must 
do  him.  If  I  do  not  my  days  as  king  of  the  sophs  are 
numbered.  I  can  see  now  that  some  of  the  fellows 
sympathize  secretly  with  Merriwell,  although  they  do 
not  dare  do  so  openly.  It  must  be  stopped.  He  may 
be  a  first-class  fellow,  but  when  he  treads  on  my  corns 
I  kick." 

Hartwick  tried  to  talk  to  Bruce,  but  the  latter  would 
say  very  little,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  left  the 
room. 

Browning  stepped  out  briskly,  and  a  stranger  who 
saw  him  could  not  have  believed  that  he  had  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  laziest  lad  in  college. 

In  one  line  Bruce  was  thoroughly  aroused,  but  he 
was  neglecting  his  studies  in  a  shameful  manner,  and 
more  than  once  a  warning  voice  told  him  that  while  he 
was  putting  himself  in  condition  to  dispose  of  Merri- 
well he  was  getting  into  trouble  in  another  quarter. 

He  did  not  heed  that  warning,  however.  His  one 
thought  was  to  retain  his  position  as  king  of  the  sopho- 
mores, and  in  order  to  do  that  he  must  not  let  any 
freshman  triumph  over  him. 

In  town  he  went  directly  to  a  certain  saloon  and 
stopped  at  the  bar,  although  he  did  not  order  a  drink. 

"Is  the  professor  in?"  he  asked. 

"I  think  he  is,"  replied  the  barkeeper. 


176  On  the  Ball  Field. 

Then  Browning  passed  through  into  a  back  room 
2nd  climbed  some  dirty  stairs,  finally  rapping  at  a  door. 

"Come  in !"  called  a  harsh  voice. 

Bruce  pushed  open  the  door  and  entered.  The  room 
was  quite  large,  but  was  not  very  clean.  The  walls 
were  pasted  over  with  sporting  pictures  taken  from  il- 
..ustrated  papers.  There  was  a  bed,  some  old  chairs, 
jne  of  which  had  a  broken  back,  a  center  table,  a 
cracked  mirror,  and  two  cuspidors.  A  door  opened  into 
another  room  beyond. 

Lounging  in  a  chair,  with  his  feet  on  the  table  be- 
side an  empty  beer  bottle  and  dirty  glass,  was  a  ruf- 
finaly-looking  chap,  who  had  a  thick  neck  that  ran 
straight  up  with  the  back  of  his  head.  His  hair  was 
close  cropped  and  his  forehead  low.  There  was  a  bull- 
dog look  about  his  mouth  and  jaw,  and  his  forehead 
was  strangely  narrow. 

The  man  was  smoking  a  black,  foul-smelling  pipe, 
while  the  hands  which  held  a  pink-tinted  illustrated 
paper  were  enormous,  with  huge  knuckles  and  joints. 
His  hand  when  closed  looked  formidable  enough  to 
Knock  down  an  ox. 

"How  do  you  do,  professor?"  saluted  Bruce. 

"Waryer,"  growled  the  man,  still  keeping  his  feet 
on  the  table.  "So  it's  you,  is  it  ?  Dis  ain't  your  day." 

"I  know  it,  but  I  decided  to  come  around  just  the 


On  the  Ball  Field.  17? 

same.  I  am  not  getting  the  flesh  off  as  fast  as  I 
ought." 

"Hey?"  roared  the  man,  letting  his  feet  fall  with  a 
crash.  "Wot's  dat?  D'yer  men  ter  say  I  ain't  doin' 
a  good  job  wid  yer?  Wot  der  blazes!" 

"Oh,  you  are  doing  all  right,  professor,  but  I  find 
I  must  be  in  condition  sooner  than  I  thought.  My 
gymnasium  exercise  doesn't  seem  to " 

"Dat  gymnasium  work  is  no  good — see?  I  knows 
wot  I'm  givin'  yer,  too.  I  told  yer  in  der  first  place 
ter  stick  ter  me,  an'  I'd  put  yer  in  shape.  It'll  cost 
more,  but " 

"I  don't  mind  that.  No  matter  what  it  costs,  I  must 
be  in  condition  to  lick  that  fellow  I  was  telling  you 
about,  and  I  must  be  in  condition  one  week  from  to- 
day." 

"Dat's  business.  I'll  put  yer  dere.  An'  yer  know 
wot  I  told  yer — I'll  show  yer  a  trick  dat'll  finish  him 
dead  sure  ef  de  mug  is  gittin'  de  best  of  yer.  It'll  cost 
yer  twenty-five  extra  ter  learn  dat  trick,  but  it  never 
fails." 

Browning  showed  sudden  interest. 

"I  had  forgotten  about  that,"  he  said.  "What  will  it 
do?" 

"It'll  do  der  bloke  what  ye're  after,  dat's  wot." 

"Yes,  but  how — how?" 

"T'ink  I'm  goin'  ter  give  der  hull  t'ing  erway  ?  Well, 


178  On  the  Ball  Field. 

I  should  say  nit!  I  tells  yer  it'll  fix  him,  and  it'll  fix 
him  so  dere  won't  be  no  more  fight  in  him.  It'll  para- 
lyze him  der  first  t'ing,  an'  he  won't  be  no  better  dan 
a  stiff." 

"How  bad  will  it  hurt  him?" 

The  man  paused  a  moment  and  then  added : 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  sayin'  dat  it'll  break  his  wrist. 
Yer  can  do  it  de  first  crack  arter  I  shows  yer  how,  but 
it'll  cost  twenty-five  plunks  ter  learn  der  trick." 

After  a  few  moments  of  hesitation  Browning  drew 
forth  his  pocketbook  and  counted  out  twenty-five  dol- 
lars. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

TO   BREAK   AN   ENEMY'S   WRIST. 

Buster  Kelley  was  a  character.  Professor  Kelley 
he  called  himself.  He  claimed  to  be  a  great  pugilist, 
and  he  was  forever  telling  of  the  men  he  had  put  to 
sleep.  But  he  couldn't  produce  the  papers  to  show  for 
it.  The  public  had  to  take  his  word,  if  they  took  any- 
thing. 

In  fact,  he  had  never  fought  a  battle  in  his  life,  unless 
it  was  with  a  boy  half  his  size.  He  made  a  bluff,  and 
it  went  The  youngsters  who  came  to  Yale  and  de- 
sired to  be  instructed  in  the  manly  art  were  always 
recommended  to  Kelley. 

To  give  Kelley  his  due,  he  was  really  a  fairly 
good  boxer,  and  he  might  have  made  a  decent  sort  of  a 
fight  if  he  had  possessed  the  courage  to  accept  a  match 
and  the  self  denial  and  energy  to  go  through  a  regu- 
lar course  of  training. 

But  Kelley  was  making  an  easy  living  "catching 
suckers,"  and  there  was  no  real  reason  why  he  should 
go  through  the  hardships  of  training  and  actually  fight- 
ing so  long  as  he  could  fool  the  youngsters  who  re- 


i8o        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

garded  him  as  a  one-time  great  and  shining  light  of 
the  prize  ring. 

He  was  too  shrewd  to  stand  up  with  any  pupil  who 
might  get  the  best  of  him  and  permit  that  pupil  to 
hammer  away  at  him.  He  kept  them  at  work  on  cer- 
tain kinds  of  blows,  so  he  always  knew  exactly  what 
was  coming.  In  this  manner  of  training  them  he  never 
betrayed  just  how"  much  he  really  knew  about  fighting. 

Some  of  the  young  fellows  who  became  Kelley's  pu- 
pils were  the  sons  of  wealthy  parents,  and  then  it  hap- 
pened that  the  professor  worked  his  little  game  for  all 
there  was  in  it.  He  sold  them  "secrets,"  and  they  paid 
dearly  for  what  they  learned.  Some  of  the  secrets 
were  of  no  value  at  all,  and  some  were  actually  worth 
knowing. 

It  happened  that  he  did  know  how  to  break  a  man's 
wrist  in  a  very  simple  manner,  providing  he  could  find 
just  the  right  opportunity.  It  was  a  simple  trick,  but 
the  opportunity  to  practice  it  could  seldom  be  found 
in  a  fight. 

Kelley's  eyes,  which  were  somewhat  bleary,  bulged 
with  greed  as  he  saw  Browning  count  out  the  money. 

"It's  givin'  yer  der  trick  dirt  cheap — see?"  said  the 
professor.  "I  never  sold  it  less  dan  twice  dat  ermount 
before.  Dat's  straight.  I'll  have  ter  make  yer  prom- 
ise not  ter  tell  it  ter  der  odder  chaps  before  I  instructs 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         181 

"If  I  buy  it  it  is  mine/'  said  Bruce. 

"Come  off  der  roof!  You  enters  inter  an'  agree- 
ment wid  me  dat  yer  don't  blow  dis  t'ing,  ur  I  don't 
tell  yer." 

"What  if  I  want  to  tell  a  particular  friend?" 

"Yer  don't  tell  him.  Dat's  all.  I  had  ter  pay  t'ree 
hunderd  dollars  ter  learn  dis,  an'  sign  a  'greement  dat 
J  wouldn't  give  it  erway.  Jem  Mace  tort  me  dis  trick 
w'en  I  sparred  wid  him  in  Liverpool.  He  says  ter  me, 
says  he :  'Buster,  ye' re  a  boid,  dat's  wot  ye  are.  If  you 
knowed  der  trick  of  breakin'  a  bloke's  wrist  dere  ain't 
no  duffer  in  der  woild  dat  can  do  yer.  I'll  show  yer 
der  crack  fer  sixty  pound.'  He  wouldn't  come  down  a 
little  bit,  an'  I  paid  him  wot  he  asked.  Since  dat  time 
I've  knocked  roun'  all  over  der  woild,  an'  it's  saved  me 
life  fife  times.  Dat  was  a  cheap  trick  wot  I  got  from 
old  Jem,  dat  were.  A  dago  pulled  a  knife  on  me  oncet 
fer  ter  cut  me  wide  open,  but  I  broke  der  dago's  wrist 
quicker  dan  yer  can  spit." 

"Well,  here  is  your  money,  and  now  I  want  to  know 
that  trick." 

"Yer  'grees  not  ter  tell  it  ter  anybody?" 

"Yes,  I  agree," 

"Dat  settles  it." 

Kelley  took  the  money  and  carefully  stowed  it  away 
in  his  clothes. 

"Strip  up  an'  git  inter  yer  trainin'  rig,"  he  directed. 


1 82        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist 

Bruce  went  into  the  back  room,  and  Buster  poked 
himself  in  the  ribs  with  his  thumb,  grinning  and  wink- 
ing at  his  own  reflection  in  the  cracked  mirror. 

"Oh,  say!  but  I'm  a  peach!"  he  told  himself  in  a  con- 
fidential whisper.  "If  der  college  perfessers  don't  git 
arter  me  ergin  IT1  make  me  forchune  right  yere." 

Kelley  had  originally  hung  out  a  sign  and  adver- 
tised to  instruct  young  gentlemen  in  boxing,  but  the 
faculty  had  made  it  rather  warm  for  him,  and  it  was 
generally  supposed  that  he  had  been  forced  to  leave 
New  Haven.  He  had  not  left,  but  he  had  changed  his 
quarters  to  the  rooms  he  now  occupied,  one  flight  up 
at  the  back  of  a  saloon. 

In  a  short  time  Bruce  called  that  he  was  ready,  and 
the  professor  leisurely  strolled  into  the  back  room, 
where  there  was  a  punching  bag,  a  striking  machine, 
all  kinds  of  boxing  gloves,  and  other  paraphernalia 
such  as  a  man  in  Kelley's  business  might  need. 

At  one  side  of  the  room  were  several  small  closets, 
in  which  Kelley's  pupils  kept  their  training  suits  while 
they  were  not  wearing  them.  The  door  of  one  closet 
was  open,  and  Browning's  street  clothes  were  hanging 
on  some  hooks  inside. 

Browning  had  got  into  trunks,  stockings,  and  light, 
soft-bottomed  shoes.  He  was  stripped  to  the  waist 

Buster  walked  around  the  lad,  inspecting  him  with  a 
critical  eye,  punching  here  and  there  with  his  fingers, 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         183 

feeling  of  certain  muscles  and  some  points  where  there 
seemed  to  be  a  superabundance  of  flesh. 

"Well,  say !"  cried  the  professor.  "I'd  like  ter  know 
wot  yer  kickin'  erbout !  I  never  seen  a  feller  work  off 
fat  no  faster  dan  wot  youse  has,  an'  dat's  on  der  dead. 
Why,  w'en  yer  comes  yere  yer  didn't  have  a  muscle 
dat  weren't  buried  in  fat,  an'  now  dey're  comin'  out 
hard  all  over  yer.  You'd  kick  ef  yer  wuz  playin'  foot- 
ball!" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Bruce,  rather  impatiently. 
"I  know  what  I  want,  and  I  am  paying  you  to  give  it 
to  me.  Go  ahead." 

"Don't  be  so  touchy,"  scowled  Kelley.  "Tackle  der 
bag  a  while,  an'  let's  see  how  yer  work." 

Browning  went  at  the  punching  bag  while  the  pro- 
fessor stood  by  and  called  the  changes.  He  thumped 
it  up  against  the  ceiling  and  caught  it  on  the  rebound 
thirty  times  in  succession,  first  with  his  right  and  then 
with  his  left.  Then  he  went  at  it  with  both  hands  and 
fairly  made  it  hum.  Then,  at  the  word,  with  remark- 
able swiftness,  he  gave  it  fist  and  elbow,  first  right  and 
then  left.  Then  he  did  some  fancy  work  at  a  combi- 
nation hit  and  butt. 

By  the  time  Buster  called  him  off  Browning  was 
streaming  with  perspiration  and  breathing  heavily. 

"Dat's  first  rate,"  complimented  the  professor.  "Yer 
does  dat  like  yer  wuz  a  perfessional." 


1 84        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist 

"Great  Scott!"  gasped  Bruce.  "I'd  never  torture 
myself  in  this  way  if  I  didn't  have  to !  It  is  awful !" 

He  looked  around  for  a  chair,  but  Buster  grinned 
and  said: 

"Dat's  right,  set  right  down — nit.  Youse  don't  do 
dat  no  more  in  dis  joint.  Wen  I  gits  yer  yere,  yer 
works  till  yer  t' rough — see?  Dat's  der  way  ter  pull 
der  meat  off  er  man." 

"Well,  what's  next?" 

"See  if  yer  can  raise  yer  record  anoder  pound  on  def 
striker." 

Bruce  went  at  the  striking  machine,  which  registered 
the  exact  number  of  pounds  of  force  in  each  blow  it  re- 
ceived. 

"Has  any  one  beaten  me  yet?"  he  asked. 

"Naw.  Dere  ain't  nobody  come  within  ninety 
pound  of  yer." 

Bruce  looked  satisfied,  but  he  made  up  his  mind  to 
raise  his  record  if  possible,  and  he  succeeded  in  adding 
twelve  pounds  to  it. 

"Say!"  exclaimed  Buster,  "if  dat  cove  wot  yer  arter 
does  you  he's  a  boid !" 

"That's  just  what  he  is,"  nodded  Bruce,  streaming 
with  perspiration.  "He  is  a  bad  man  to  go  against " 

"If  yer  ever  gits  at  him  wid  dat  left  ye'll  knock  him 
out,  sure."  -*- 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         185 

"He  is  like  a  panther  on  his  feet,  and  I  shall  be  in 
great  luck  if  I  find  him  with  my  left." 

"Yer  don't  want  ter  t'ink  dat.  Yer  wants  ter  t'ink 
yer  goin'  ter  find  him  anyhow.  Dat's  der  way." 

"I  have  thought  so  before,  and  I  have  discovered 
that  he  is  a  wonderfully  hard  man  to  find." 

"Wen  yer  goin'  ter  fight  him?" 

"I  am  going  to  try  to  make  him  meet  me  one  week 
from  to-day." 

"Where?" 

"I  don't  know  yet." 

"Is  he  a  squealer  ?" 

"I  don't  believe  you  could  drag  anything  out  of 
him  with  horses." 

"If  dat's  right  yer  might  make  it  yere,  an'  it  could 
be  kept  quiet.  I'd  charge  a  little  somet'ing  fer  der  use 
of  der  room,  but  dat  wouldn't  come  out  of  eder  of 
youse,  fer  we'd  make  der  fellers  pay  wot  come  in  ter 
see  it" 

"We'll  see  about  that/'  said  Bruce.  "But  now  I 
want  to  know  that  trick." 

"Oh,  yes.     I  near  fergot  dat." 

"Well,  I  didn't." 

"Say,  if  yer  use  dat  on  him  I  don't  t'ink  we  can  have 
der  scrap  here." 

"Why  not?" 


1 86        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

"If  one  of  dem  freshies  got  injuries  in  dis  place 
so  bad  it  might  git  out,  an'  dat  would  fix  me." 

'I  don't  intend  to  use  it  on  him  unless  I  have  to.  Go 
ahead  and  explain  your  trick.  If  it  isn't  straight  I 
want  my  money  back." 

"Dere  won't  be  any  money  back,  fer  der  trick  is  all 
right,  all  right  Now  stan'  up  here  an'  I'll  show  yer 
how  it's  did." 

Kelley  then  showed  Bruce  how  to  bring  the  edge 
of  his  open  hand  down  on  the  upper  side  of  an  enem/s 
wrist  just  back  of  the  joint 

"Yer  wants  ter  snap  it  like  dis,"  Buster  explained, 
illustrating  with  a  sharp,  rebounding  motion.  "If  yet 
strikes  him  right  dere  wid  der  cushion  meat  on  der 
lower  edge  of  yer  hand  an'  snaps  yer  hand  erway  like 
dis,  it's  dead  sure  ter  break  der  bone.  Jes'  try  it  on 
yer  own  wrist,  but  be  careful  not  ter  try  it  too  hard." 

Bruce  did  as  directed,  and  he  found  that  he  hurt 
himself  severely,  although  he  struck  a  very  light  blow. 

"Dat's  ter  trick,"  said  Kelley,  "an'  it's  a  dandy. 
Don't  yer  ever  use  it  'less  yer  dead  sure  yer  wants  ter 
break  der  odder  feller's  wrist" 

Then  the  professor  called  up  a  colored  boy,  who 
rubbed  Bruce  down,  and  the  king  of  the  sophomores 
finally  departed. 

As  he  walked  back  toward  his  room  in  the  dusk  of 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         187 

early  evening1,  Browning  began  to  feel  sorry  that  he 
had  learned  the  trick  at  all. 

"It  would  be  a  dirty  game  to  play  on  Merriwell," 
he  muttered,  "but  now  that  I  know  it,  I  may  get  mad 
and  do  it  in  a  huff,  especially  if  I  see  Merriwell  is  get- 
ting the  best  of  me." 

The  more  Browning  thought  the  matter  over  the 
greater  became  his  regret  that  he  had  learned  the  trick 
of  breaking  an  opponent's  wrist.  For  all  that  he  had 
a  strong  feeling  against  Merriwell,  he  could  see  that 
the  leader  of  the  freshmen  was  square  and  manly,  and 
he  did  not  believe  Frank  would  take  an  unfair  ad- 
vantage of  a  foe. 

Bruce  became  quite  unlike  his  old  jovial  self.  He 
was  strangely  downcast  and  moody,  and  he  saw  that 
he  was  fast  losing  prestige  with  those  who  had  once 
regarded  him  as  their  leader. 

Hartwick,  Browning's  roommate,  was  more  bitter 
against  MerriwelL 

"The  confounded  upstart!"  he  would  growl. 
"Think  of  his  coming  here  and  carrying  things  on  with 
such  a  high  hand !  When  we  were  freshmen  the  soph- 
omores had  everything  their  own  way.  They  Lambda 
Chied  us  till  they  became'sick  of  it,  and  all  our  attempts 
to  get  even  proved  failures.  Now  the  freshmen  who 
are  following  the  lead  of  this  fellow  Merriwell  seem 
to  think  that  they  are  cocks  of  the  walk.  I  tell  you 


1 88         To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

what  it  is,  Bruce,  you  must  do  that  fellow,  and  you 
must  do  him  so  he  will  stay  done." 

"Oh,  I  don't  believe  he  is  such  a  bad  fellow  at  heart. 
It  wouldn't  be  right  to  injure  him  permanently." 

"Wouldn't  it?  Give  me  the  chance  and  see  if  I 
don't  fix  him." 

Hartwick  began  to  regard  his  roommate  with  dis- 
dain. 

"For  goodness'  sake,  don't  get  soft,"  he  implored. 
"The  fellows  will  say  you  are  chicken-hearted,  and 
that  will  settle  your  case.  You'll  never  get  back  to 
your  old  position  if  you  once  lose  it." 

"I'd  rather  be  thought  chicken-hearted  than  hold 
my  position  by  dirty  play." 

Hartwick  made  no  retort,  but  it  was  plain  to  see 
that  he  entertained  a  different  view  of  a  case  like  the 
one  in  question. 

Browning  worked  like  a  beaver  to  get  himself  in 
shape  for  the  coming  struggle,  but  he  promised  him- 
self over  and  over  that  he  would  never  do  such  a  thing 
again.  It  was  pride  and  hope  that  sustained  him 
through  his  severe  course  of  training. 

"No  fresh  mug  can  do  youse  now,"  Buster  Kelley 
nnally  declared.  "I'll  put  me  dough  on  you,  an'  I'll 
win,  too." 

Bruce  was  really  in  very  good  form,  and  he  felt  that 
he  stood  more  than  an  even  chance  with  Merriwell. 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         189 

He  had  seen  the  freshman  fight,  however,  and  he  real- 
ized that  he  would  not  have  a  walkover. 

The  freshmen  began  to  think  that  Browning  feared 
to  meet  Merriwell,  and  they  openly  told  him  as  much. 
They  taunted  him  to  such  an  extent  that  it  was  with 
the  utmost  difficulty  he  held  himself  in  check  till  the 
expiration  of  the  time  he  had  set  for  getting  himseli 
in  condition. 

"What  if  I  should  see  the  freshman  getting  the  best 
of  me  and  should  break  his  wrist?"  he  thought.  "I 
might  make  it  appear  to  be  an  accident,  but  I  would 
know  better  myself.  I'd  get  the  best  of  Merriwell,  and 
the  fellows  would  still  hail  me  as  King  Browning,  but 
I  would  be  ashamed  of  myself  all  the  while." 

It  was  that  thought  which  troubled  him  so  much 
and  made  him  appear  so  grouchy. 

"Browning  is  in  a  blue  funk  whenever  he  thinks  of 
stacking  up  againsfthe  freshman,"  one  sophomore  con- 
fidentially told  another.  "I  believe  he  has  lost  his 
nerve." 

"It  looks  that  way,"  admitted  the  other.      « 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Bruce's  appearance  led  his 
former  admirers  to  misjudge  him,  and  he  saw  a  grow- 
ing coolness  toward  him. 

"I'll  meet  Merriwell  on  the  level,"  he  finally  decided, 
"and  I  will  whip  him  on  the  level  or  I'll  not  whip  him 
at  all." 


190        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

Then  he  instructed  Hartwick  to  carry  a  challenge  to 
Frank. 

"I  will  fight  him  with  hard  gloves,"  said  Bruce. 

He  had  decided  that  with  a  glove  on  his  hand  he 
could  not  easily  perform  the  trick  of  breaking  his  ene- 
my's wrist  in  case  he  was  seized  by  an  impulse  to  do  so. 

"Gloves?"  cried  Hartwick.  "Why,  man,  why  don't 
you  challenge  him  to  meet  you  with  bare  fists  ?" 

"Because  I  have  decided  that  gloves  are  all  right." 

"The  fellows  will  say  you  are  afraid." 

"Let  them  say  so  if  they  like,"  returned  Bruce,  but 
lie  winced  a  bit,  as  if  a  tender  spot  had  been  touched. 

Hartwick  did  his  best  to  induce  his  friend  to  chal- 
lenge Merriwell  to  a  fight  with  bare  fists,  but  Bruce  had 
made  up  his  mind  and  he  was  obstinate. 

So  it  came  about  that  Hartwick  carried  the  challenge 
just  as  Browning  desired,  and  it  was  promptly  ac- 
cepted. Merriwell  was  not  a  fellow  who  sought 
trouble,  but  he  knew  he  must  meet  Browning  or  be 
called  a  coward,  and  he  did  not  dally.  He  quietly  told 
Hartwick  that  any  arrangements  Mr.  Browning  saw  fit 
to  make  would  be  agreeable  to  him.  In  that  way  he 
put  Browning  on  his  honor  to  give  him  a  square  deal. 

The  matter  was  kept  very  quiet.  It  was  decided 
that  the  match  should  come  off  in  Kelley's  back  room, 
and  a  few  of  Merriwell's  and  Browning's  friends 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist         191 

should  be  invited.  Bruce  paid  for  the  room  and  firmly 
"sat  on"  the  professor's  scheme  to  charge  admission. 

"This  is  no  prize  fight,"  he  rather  warmly  declared. 
"We  are  not  putting  ourselves  on  exhibition,  like  two 
pugilists.  It  is  a  matter  of  honor." 

"Well,  if  youse  college  chaps  don't  git  der  derndest 
ideas  inter  yer  nuts !"  muttered  Kelley,  who  could  not 
understand  Browning's  view  of  an  affair  of  honor. 
"Youse  takes  der  cream,  dat's  wot  yer  do !" 

On  Saturday  afternoon  one  week  after  the  rush 
at  the  park  certain  students  might  have  been  seen  to 
stroll,  one  at  a  time,  into  the  saloon  over  which  were 
the  headquarters  of  Professor  Kelley.  It  was  three 
in  the  afternoon  that  about  twenty  lads  were  gathered 
in  Buster's  training-room  to  witness  the  meeting  be- 
tween Merriwell  and  Browning. 

Tad  Horner  was  chosen  referee. 

"Look  here,"  he  said  before  the  first  round,  "if  any 
man  here  isn't  satisfied  with  my  decisions,  let  him  meet 
me  after  the  match  is  over,  and  I  will  satisfy  him  or 
fight  him." 

This  was  said  in  all  earnestness,  and  it  brought  a 
round  of  applause  and  laughter. 

It  was  agreed  that  it  should  be  a  six-round  contest, 
not  more  and  no  less,  unless  one  side  threw  up  the 
sponge  or  one  of  the  men  was  knocked  out. 

Rattleton  was  Frank's  second,  and  Hartwick  repre- 


292        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

sented  Bruce.  A  regular  ring  had  been  roped  off,  and 
the  men  entered  from  opposite  sides  at  a  signal.  Much 
to  his  disgust,  Kelley  was  not  allowed  to  take  any  part 
in  the  affair. 

Both  lads  were  stripped  to  the  waist.  Merriwell 
was  clean  limbed,  but  muscular,  while  Browning  was 
stocky  and  solid.  The  sophomore  had  gotten  rid  of 
his  superfluous  flesh  in  a  wonderful  manner,  and  he 
looked  to  be  a  hard  man  to  tackle. 

The  gloves  were  put  on,  and  then  the  rivals  advanced 
and  shook  hands.  .  An  instant  later  they  were  at  it, 
and  the  decisive  struggle  between  them  had  begun. 

Their  movements  .were  so  rapid  that  it  was  difficult 
for  the  eyes  of  the  eager  spectators  to  follow  them. 
Both  got  in  some  sharp  blows,  and  -the  round  ended 
with  a  clean  knock-down  for  Browning,  who  planted 
a  terrific  blow  between  Merriwell's  eyes  and  sent  the 
freshman  to  the  floor. 

The  sophs  were  jubilant  and  the  freshmen  were 
downcast.  Merriwell  simply  laughed  as  he  sat  on  Rat- 
tleton's  knee. 

"Whee  jiz — I  mean  jee  whiz!"  spluttered  Harry. 
"Are  you  going  to  let  that  fellow  do  you.  The  sophs 
will  never  get  over  it  if  you  do.  Hear  'em  laugh!" 

"Don't  worry,"  smiled  Frank.  "This  is  the  begin- 
ning. There  must  be  an  ending." 

"Do  him — do  him,  Bruce !"  fiercely  whispered  Hart- 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         193 

wick  in  the  ear  of  his  principal.  "It's  plain  enough 
±at  you  can." 

"I  think  I  can,"  said  Bruce,  confidently. 

The  sophs  offered  three  to  two  on  Browning,  and 
many  bets  were  made. 

Then  time  was  called  and  the  rivals  advanced  once 
more. 

The  second  round  was  hotter  than  the  first,  if  pos- 
sible, and  Merriwell  drew  first  blood  by  giving  Brown- 
ing a  heavy  one  on  the  nose.  It  ended  with  both  spar- 
ring, and  neither  seeming  to  have  a  decided  advan- 
tage. 

Now  the  freshmen  were  encouraged,  and  they  ex- 
pressed their  confidence  in  their  man.  More  bets  were 
made,  the  sophomores  still  giving  odds. 

The  third  round  filled  the  freshmen  with  delight, 
for  Merriwell  knocked  Browning  off  his  feet  twice, 
while  he  seemed  to  get  no  heavy  blows  himself. 

The  sophs  became  quieter,  and  no  money  at  odds  was 
in  sight.  In  fact,  the  freshmen  tried  to  get  even 
money,  but  could  not. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  rounds  were  filled  with  good, 
sharp,  scientific  work,  but  toward  the  close  of  the  fifth 
both  men  seemed  a  trifle  groggy.  Neither  had  a  de- 
cided advantage. 

"Dat  Merriwell  is  a  boid!"  declared  Buster  Kelley 
enthusiastically.  "Why,  dat  chap  could  be  der  cham- 


194        To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist. 

peen  of  der  woild  if  he  went  inter  der  business  fer  fair' 
Dat's  on  der  level,  too." 

Both  lads  were  battered  and  bruised,  and  there  wai 
blood  on  their  faces  when  they  retired  to  their  cor 
ners  at  the  command  from  Homer. 

"He's  a  nut,"  confessed  Frank.  "He  has  given  m* 
some  soakers,  and  he  takes  his  medicine  as  if  he  liked 
it." 

"You'll  finish  him  next  round,  sure,"  fluttered 
Harry.  "I  shall  buck  the  kickit — I  mean  kick  the 
bucket  if  you  don't." 

"How  is  it?"  Hartwick  eagerly  asked  as  he  wiped 
the  blood  from  Browning's  face.  "Can  you  finish  him 
next  round?" 

"I  shall  try,  but  I  don't  believe  the  fellow  can  be 
licked  unless  he  is  killed.  That's  what  I  think  of 
him." 

"Didn't  I  hear  you  say  you  knew  a  trick  that  would 
do  him?" 

"Yes,  but  it  is  not  a  square  deal,  although  no  referee 
could  call  it  foul  if  this  were  a  fight  with  bare  fists.  As 
it  is,  I'd  have  to  get  my  glove  off." 

"Do  it!  do  it!     You're  a  fool  if  you  don't!" 

"Then  I'm  a  fool.  That  man  has  trusted  this  en- 
tire affair  to  our  honor,  and  if  I  can't  whip  him  fair  I 
won't  whip  him  at  all." 

"You  make  me  sick!"  sneered  Hartwick. 


To  Break  an  Enemy's  Wrist.         195 

At  the  call  the  two  men  promptly  faced  each  other 
for  the  final  round.  At  first  they  were  a  bit  wary,  but 
then,  as  if  by  mutual  agreement,  they  went  at  each 
other  like  tigers.  Blow  followed  blow,  but  it  was  plain 
that  one  man  was  getting  quite  as  much  as  the  other. 
Browning  got  in  one  of  his  terrific  drives,  but  it  was 
not  a  knockout,  and  Merriwell  had  the  sophomore  up 
up  against  the  rope  three  times. 

"Time!  Break  away!"  yelled  Tad  Horner,  forcing 
himself  over  between  the  combatants.  "It's  all  over." 

"What's  the  decision?"  shouted  a  dozen  voices. 

"A  draw,"  was  the  distinct  answer.  "I  declare  it 
an  even  thing  between  them." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and  then,  bruised 
and  smiling,  Frank  Merriwell  tore  off  his  glove  and 
extended  his  hand.  Off  came  Browning's  glove,  and 
he  accepted  the  hand  of  the  freshman. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

TALKING     IT     OVER. 

Before  night  nearly  every  student  knew  that  Merri- 
well  and  Browning  had  fought  a  six-round,  hard-glove 
contest  to  a  draw,  and  it  was  generally  said  that  the  de- 
cision was  fair.  Evan  Hartwick  seemed  to  be  the  only 
witness  of  the  fight  who  was  dissatisfied.  Roland 
Ditson  had  not  been  invited  to  see  it,  but  he  expressed 
a  belief  that  Browning  would  prove  the  better  man  in 
a  fight  to  a  finish. 

Several  weeks  slipped  by. 

After  the  glove  contest  Browning  had  very  little  to 
say  about  the  freshman  leader.  Whenever  he  did  say 
anything,  it  was  exactly  what  he  thought,  and  it  was 
noted  that  he  admitted  Merriwell  to  be  a  comer. 

Evan  Hartwick  could  not  crush  down  his  powerful 
dislike  for  Merriwell.  He  admitted  to  Bruce  that  he 
felt  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  strike  the  cool  fresh- 
man whenever  they  met. 

"I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  do  it,  my  boy,"  lazily 
smiled  Browning,  who  was  growing  fat  again,  now 
that  he  was  no  longer  in  training.  "He  is  a  bad  man 
to  hit" 


Talking  it  Over.  197 

"It  depends  on  what  he  is  hit  with,"  returned  Hart- 
wick,  grimly.  "You  made  a  fool  of  yourself  when 
you  failed  to  break  his  wrist,  after  paying  twenty-five 
toadskins  to  learn  the  trick.  That  would  have  made 
you  the  victor." 

"And  it  would  have  made  me  feel  like  a  contemptible 
sneak.  I  have  been  well  satisfied  with  myself  that  I 
did  not  try  the  trick.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  know,  but 
it  should  be  used  on  no  one  but  a  ruffian." 

"It's  surprising  to  me  how  soft  you're  getting.  This 
Merriwell  is  dangerous  in  many  directions,  and  his 
career  would  have  been  stopped  short  if  you  had  broken 
his  wrist.  He  has  shown  that  he  is  a  baseball  pitcher, 
but  no  man  can  pitch  with  a  broken  wrist.  He  is  one 
of  the  best  freshmen  half-backs  ever  seen  at  Yale,  ac- 
cording to  the  general  acknowledgment.  And  now  he 
is  pulling  an  oar  and  coaching  the  freshmen  crew  at 
the  same  time — something  never  attempted  before — 
something  said  to  be  impossible.  Where  would  he  be 
if  you  had  broken  his  wrist?" 

"He  could  coach  the  freshmen  just  the  same,  and 
the  very  fact  that  he  can  do  all  these  things  makes  me 
well  satisfied  that  I  did  not  fix  him  so  he  couldn't." 

"Wait !  wait !  What  if  the  freshmen  beat  us  out  at 
Lake  Saltonstall  ?  What  if  they  come  out  ahead  of  us?" 

"They  won't." 

"I  know  the  fellows  are  saying  they  will  not,  but  I 


198  Talking  it  Over. 

tell  you  this  Merriwell  is  full  of  tricks,  and  there  is  no 
telling  what  he  may  do  with  the  fresh  crew.  He  is 
working1  them  secretly,  and  our  spies  report  that  he 
seems  to  know  his  business." 

"Well,  if  he  makes  them  winners  ke  will  deserve 
the  credit  he  will  receive.  But  he  can't  do  it.  No 
man  can  coach  a  crew  and  pull  an  oar  at  the  same  time. 
The  very  fact  that  he  is  attempting  such  a  thing  shows 
he  isn't  in  the  game." 

"Don't  be  so  sure.  They  say  he  has  a  substitute 
who  takes  his  place  in  the  boat  sometimes,  and  that 
gives  him  a  chance  to  see  just  how  the  crew  is  work- 
ing." 

"Rats!  Who  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing!  Merri- 
well is  all  right,  but  he  doesn't  know  anything  about 
rowing.  He  may  think  he  knows,  but  he  is  fooling 
himself." 

"Well,  we  will  have  to  wait  and  see  about  that." 

"I  really  believe  you  are  afraid  of  Merriwell.  Why 
— ha !  ha !  ha ! — you  are  the  only  one  who  has  an  ides 
the  freshmen  will  be  in  the  race  at  all." 

"I  know  it,  but  few  have  had  any  idea  that  the 
freshmen  could  do  any  of  the  things  they  have  done. 
They  have  fooled  us  right  along,  and " 

"Oh,  say!  Give  me  a  cigarette  and  let's  drop  it. 
From  the  way  you  talk  I  should  say  you  would  make 
a  good  sporting  editor  for  a  Sunday-school  paper." 


Talking  it  Over.  199 

"That's  all  right,"  muttered  Hartwick,  sulkily,  as  he 
tossed  Bruce  a  package  of  Turkish  cigarettes.  "Wait 
and  see  if  I  am  not  right." 

After  this  Bruce  went  about  telling  all  the  sopho- 
mores what  Hartwick  thought,  and  urging  them  to 
"jolly  him"  whenever  they  could  get  a  chance.  As  a 
result  Evan  was  kept  in  hot  water  the  most  of  the  time, 
but  he  persisted  in  claiming  that  the  freshmen  were 
bound  to  give  them  a  surprise. 

One  evening  a  jolly  party  gathered  in  Browning  and 
Hartwick's  rooms.  Cigarettes  were  passed  around,  and 
soon  the  smoke  was  thick  enough  to  cut  with  a  knife. 

"How  are  the  eggs  down  where  you  are  taking  your 
meals  now,  Homer?"  asked  Puss  Parker. 

"Oh,  they  are  birds!"  chirped  little  Tad,  who  was 
perched  on  the  back  of  a  chair,  with  his  cap  on  the  side 
of  his  head. 

This  produced  a  general  laugh,  and  Parker  said : 

"Speaking  of  birds  makes  me  think  that  riches  hath 
wings.  I  dropped  seventy-five  in  that  little  game  last 
night." 

Punch  Swallows  groaned  in  a  heartrending  way. 

"That's  nothing,"  he  said,  dolefully.  "I  lost  a  hun- 
dred and  ten  last  week,  and  I've  been  broke  ever  since. 
Wired  home  for  money,  but  the  gov  didn't  respond. 
After  that  game  all  I  could  think  of  was  two  pairs, 
three  of  a  kind,  bobtail  flushes,  and  so  on.  I  made  a 


200  Talking  it  Over. 

dead  flunk  at  recitations  for  two  days.  The  evening 
after  I  lost  my  roll  I  was  to  attend  a  swell  affair  up  on 
Temple  Street.  I  was  in  a  rocky  condition,  and  I  took 
something  to  brace  me  up,  for  I  knew  there  would  bf 
pretty  girls  there,  and  I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for 
anything.  The  memory  of  that  horrible  game  was  still 
with  me,  and  whenever  my  mind  wandered  I  was  think- 
ing of  jack  pots  and  kindred  things.  Well,  I  went  to 
the  party,  and  there  were  plenty  of  queens  there,  but  I 
didn't  seem  to  enjoy  myself,  for  some  reason.  I  fan- 
cied it  possible  they  might  smell  my  breath,  and  that 
worried  me.  I  thought  I  would  go  off  by  myself,  and 
so  I  wandered  into  a  little  room  where  I  imagined  I 
would  be  alone,  but  hanged  if  I  didn't  run  into  the 
hostess  and  a  stack  of  ladies.  Then,  with  my  mind 
confused,  I  made  a  fool  of  myself.  'Er — er — excuse 
me,'  I  stammered;  'what  room  is  this?*  'This  is  the 
anteroom,  sir,'  replied  the  hostess.  'What's  the  limit  ?' 
says  I,  as  I  fumbled  in  my  pocket.  Then  I  took  a  tum- 
ble to  myself  and  chased  out  in  a  hurry.  I  saw  the 
girls  staring  after  me  as  if  they  thought  me  crazy.  It 
was  awful." 

"Oh,  well,  you  mustn't  mind  the  loss  of  a  few  dol- 
lars," said  Andy  Emery.  "A  man  can  make  a  fortune 
in  this  country  picking  up  chips — if  he  puts  them  on 
the  right  card.'' 

"Put  a  little  perfumery  on  that  before  you  use  it 


Talking  it  Over.  201 

again,  Emery,"  grinned  Tad  Homer.  "It's  got  whis- 
kers." 

"I  think  Swallows  all  right,  but  he  reminds  me  of  a 
man  I  knew  once  on  a  time.  I  haven't  seen  Swallows 
when  he  had  over  twenty-five  at  a  time  since  he's  been 
here,  and  still  he  says  he  dropped  a  hundred  and  ten  in 
one  game." 

"How  about  this  man  you  knew  ?"  asked  Parker. 

"He  was  a  great  fellow  to  stretch  the  long  bow,  and 
it  became  such  a  habit  that  he  could  not  break  it.  He 
seemed  to  prefer  a  falsehood  to  the  truth,  even  when 
the  truth  would  have  served  him  better.  Well,  he  died 
and  was  buried.  One  day  I  visited  the  cemetery  and 
gazed  on  his  tombstone.  On  the  top  of  the  stone  was 
his  name  and  on  the  bottom  were  these  words :  'I  am 
not  dead,  but  sleeping.'  Now  that  man  was  lying  in 
his  grave,  for  his  habit " 

Parker  flung  a  slipper  at  Emery,  who  dodged  it. 
The  slipper  struck  Tad  Homer  and  knocked  him  off 
the  back  of  the  chair. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Swallows,  nodding  at  Em- 
ery, who  was  laughing.  "I'll  square  that  the  first 
chance  I  get." 

"Do !  But  when  you  get  a  roll,  remember  there  are 
others  who  are  looking  for  you." 

"Drop  this  persiflage  and  come  down  to  business," 
said  Browning,  winking  at  the  others  and  nodding 


202  Talking  it  Over. 

toward  Hartwick,  who  did  not  seem  to  be  taking  any 
interest  in  what  was  going  on.  "Let's  talk  about  the 
races." 

"Yas,  by  Jawve!"  drawled  Willis  Paulding,  who 
tried  to  be  "deucedly  English"  in  everything.  "Let's 
talk  about  the  races,  deah  boys.  That's  what  inter- 
ests me,  don't  yer  know." 

Hartwick  squirmed.  He  knew  what  was  coming, 
and  still  his  disposition  was  such  that  he  could  not  re- 
sist a  "jolly"  in  case  the  jolliers  expressed  opinions  that 
did  not  agree  with  his  own. 

Browning  enjoyed  seeing  the  gang  get  Hartwick  on 
a  string,  and  he  was  ever  ready  to  aid  anything  of  the 
kind  along.  By  nature  the  king  of  sophomores  was  a 
practical  joker.  He  had  put  up  more  jobs  than  any 
man  who  ever  entered  Yale.  That  was  what  had 
given  him  his  reputation. 

"I  understand  the  freshmen  are  rapidly  coming  to 
the  front,"  observed  Hod  Chadwick,  with  apparent 
seriousness. 

"Is  that  right?"  asked  Parker.  "Heard  anything 
new?" 

"Why,  they  say  this  Merriwell  has  the  genuine  Ox- 
ford system." 

"Where'dhegetit?" 

"He  has  been  abroad.  It  is  even  reported  that  he  has 
studied  at  Oxford.  He  has  watched  the  work  of  the 


Talking  it  Over.  203 

Oxford  coach,  and  he  is  working  the  freshmen  eight 
on  the  same  lines." 

"That's  right— that's  right,"  nodded  Hartwick,  and 
the  boys  winked  at  each  other. 

"How  do  you  know  it  is  right?"  asked  Emery. 
"What  do  you  know  about  Merriwell  ?" 

"I  know  he  has  been  abroad,  and  I  have  it  straight 
that  he  spent  considerable  time  at  Oxford." 

"That's  nothing.  Any  lubber  might  watch  the 
work  at  Oxford,  but  what  would  that  amount  to?" 

"Merriwell  is  no  lubber,  as  you  fellows  should  know 
by  this  time." 

"We  don't  seem  to  know  much  of  anything  about 
him.  Who  are  his  parents  ?  What  about  them  ?" 

"I  hear  his  father  was  drowned  in  bed,"  murmured 
Tad  Horner. 

"By  Jawve!"  exclaimed  Willis  Paulding.  "How 
could  that  happen  ?" 

"There  was  a  hole  in  the  mattress,  and  he  fell 
through  into  the  spring,"  gravely  assured  Tad. 

Willis  nearly  lost  his  breath. 

"That's  all  wrong,"  said  Browning.  "It's  true  Mer- 
riwell is  no  lubber.  Why  should  he  be?  His  father 
was  a  skipper." 

"What !     A  sea  captain  ?"  asked  Hartwick. 

"No,  a  bank  cashier.     He  skipped  to  Canada." 


204  Talking  it  Over. 

"Wow!"  whooped  Tad  Horner.  "How  that  hurt! 
Don't  do  it  again !" 

"You  fellows  have  things  twisted,"  asserted  Parker, 
with  apparent  seriousness.  "I  have  private  advices 
that  Merriwell's  father  is  a  poor  dentist." 

"A  poor  dentist,  eh?" 

"Yes,  rather  poor,  but  he  manages  to  pull  out." 

Tad  Horner  fell  off  the  back  of  his  chair  and  struck 
sprawling  on  the  floor. 

"Water !"  he  gasped. 

"You  wouldn't  know  it  if  you  saw  it,"  grinned 
Parker. 

"Without  a  doubt  and  without  any  fooling,  Merri- 
well's father  is  dead,"  said  Hod  Chadwick. 

"Do  you  know  this  for  a  fact  ?"  asked  Swallows. 

"Yes.     It  is  said  that  he  died  on  the  field." 

"Then  he  was  a  soldier?" 

"No ;  a  baseball  umpire." 

"This  is  a  very  dry  crowd,"  laughed  Browning. 

"I  should  think  you  would  say  something,"  hinted 
Chadwick. 

"It  isn't  in  the  house.  We'll  go  down  to  Morey's 
after  supper  settles  and  I'll  blow." 

"To  fizz?" 

"Not  this  evening.  Ale  is  good  enough  for  this 
crowd." 

"Oh,  I  don't  suppose  we  can  kick  at  that     But  we 


Talking  it  Over.  205 

were  speaking  about  Merriwell  and  the  freshman  crew 
How  are  we  to  escape  death  at  their  hands  ?" 

"Have  another  cigarette  all  around,"  invited  Parker 
as  he  passed  them. 

"That's  too  slow,  but  I'll  take  a  cigarette  just  the 
same." 

Hartwick  got  up  and  walked  about  in  a  corner,  show- 
ing nervousness.  They  urged  him  to  sit  down  and 
take  things  easy.  He  felt  like  making  a  break  and 
getting  out,  but  he  knew  they  would  roar  with  laughter 
if  he  did. 

"You  fellows  are  a  lot  of  chumps!"  he  exclaimed, 
suddenly  getting  angry.  "You  treat  this  matter  lightly 
now,  but  you  are  likely  to  change  your  tune  after  the 
race." 

The  boys  were  well  satisfied,  for  they  saw  he  was 
getting  aroused. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  as  we  treat  it  so  very  lightly," 
said  Emery.  "We've  got  to  have  our  fun,  no  matter 
what  we  may  think." 

"But  every  one  of  you  is  of  the  opinion  that  we  are 
going  to  have  a  cinch  with  the  freshmen." 

"It  does  look  easy." 

"Have  they  been  easy  thus  far?" 

"Oh,  that's  different." 

"You  will  find  this  is  different  when  it  is  all  over.  * 

"Now,  see  here,  Hartwick,"  said  Parker;  "you  are 


2o6  Talking  it  Over. 

the  only  soph  who  does  not  think  we  have  a  soft  thing 
with  the  freshmen.  What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Why,  he  wants  to  disagree  with  us,  that's  all,"  said 
Browning.  "Why,  he  wouldn't  eat  anything  if  he 
thought  it  would  agree  with  him.  That's  the  kind  of 
a  man  he  is." 

Hartwick  looked  disgusted. 

"Keep  it  up!  keep  it  up!"  he  cried.  "But  you'll 
find  out !" 

"Now,  see  here,  man,"  said  Parker  once  more;  "are 
you  stuck  on  Merriwell?" 

Hartwick  showed  still  greater  disgust,  his  eyes 
flashing. 

"Stuck  on  him!"  he  cried.  "Well,  not  any!  You 
fellows  ought  to  know  that!  Stuck  on  him!  That 
gives  me  pains !" 

"Well,  I  couldn't  see  what  ailed  you  unless  you 
were." 

"It  is  because  I  am  not  stuck  on  him  that  I  am  so 
anxious  to  beat  him,  as  you  fellows  ought  to  be  able 
to  see." 

"Oh,  that's  it?  Excuse  me!  Well,  now,  how  is  he 
going  to  make  a  lot  of  lubberly  freshies  beat  us  ?" 

"He's  found  some  men  who  can  pull  oars  all  right, 
and  he  has  introduced  a  few  innovations  that  will  be 
surprises." 

"How  do  you  know  so  much  about  it?" 


Talking  it  Over.  20; 

"I  have  been  investigating,  and  I  am  not  the  only 
one." 

"Well,  what  are  his  innovations?" 

"The  Oxford  oar,  in  the  first  place." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Two  to  four  inches  longer  than  our  oar,  with  a 
blade  five  and  one-half  inches  wide,  instead  of  seven 
inches." 

"For  goodness'  sake,  what  is  the  advantage  of  such 
an  oar?" 

"I'll  tell  you.  With  a  short  course  and  high  stroke 
no  set  of  men  are  strong  enough  to  use  the  old  oar  and 
go  the  distance  without  weakening.  You  must  admit 
that." 

"Well?" 

"With  the  narrow  blades  a  longer  oar  can  be  used 
and  the  leverage  increased.  That  is  plain  enough." 

The  boys  were  silent  for  some  moments.  Here  was 
a  matter  they  had  not  considered,  and  they  were  forced 
to  confess  that  it  was  a  point  for  discussion. 

"But  that  is  not  enough  to  enable  the  freshmen  to 
win,  even  admitting  the  English  oar  to  be  better, 
which  has  not  been  proven,"  said  Emery. 

"By  Jawve!  I  am  rather  inclined  to  believe  the 
English  oar  is  superior,  don't  yer  know,"  put  in  Willis 
Paulding. 

"That's  not  surprising  in  your  case,"  said  Emery. 


^o8  Talking  it  Over. 

"That's  not  all  Merriwell  has  done,"  declared  Hart- 
wick. 

"What  else  has  he  done?" 

"He  has  introduced  the  Oxford  style  of  catch,  fin- 
ish and  length  of  strokes,  which  means  a  longer  swing, 
with  more  leg  and  body  work." 

"Well,  that  will  cook  'em!"  cried  Tad  Homer.  "If 
he  has  done  that,  we'll  make  a  show  of  those  greenies." 

"What  reason  have  you  for  thinking  anything  of 
the  sort  ?" 

"Every  reason.  The  regular  Yale  stroke  cannot  be 
improved  upon.  That  is  beyond  question." 

Hartwick  smiled  wearily. 

"That's  what  I  call  conceit,"  he  said.  "You  don't 
know  whether  it  can  be  improved  upon  or  not." 

There  was  an  outburst  of  protests  by  the  boys,  who 
believed,  as  almost  every  Yale  man  believes,  that  Yale 
methods  are  correct  and  cannot  be  improved  upon. 
Hartwick  was  regarded  as  disloyal,  and  all  felt  like 
giving  it  to  him  hot. 

"A  longer  body  swing  is  certain  to  make  a  difficult 
recovery,"  said  Browning.  "That  is  plain  enough." 

"Not  if  the  men  are  worked  right  and  put  in  proper 
form,"  declared  Hartwick.  "I  have  been  told  that 
the  English  long  stroke  and  recovery  is  very  graceful 
and  easy,  and  that  it  does  not  wear  on  a  man  like  the 
American  stroke." 


Talking  it  Over.  209 

"By  Jawve !  I  think  that's  right,  don't  yer  know," 
said  Paulding. 

"What  you  think  doesn't  count,"  muttered  Tad  Hor- 
ner. 

"With  such  a  stroke  and  swing  the  men  are  bound 
to  recover  on  their  toes,"  asserted  Browning. 

"Oh,  rats !"  said  Punch  Swallows.  "What  does  that 
amount  to,  anyway,  in  a  case  like  this?  We  are  talk- 
ing of  this  tub  load  of  freshmen  as  if  they  were  the 
'Varsity  crew.  What's  the  use?  It  won't  make  any 
difference  what  kind  of  a  stroke  they  use.  They  are 
mighty  liable  to  use  several  different  kinds,  and  they 
won't  be  in  it  at  all,  my  children.  Let's  go  down  to 
Moray's  and  oil  up." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Hartwick,  grimly.  "But  you  will 
think  over  what  I  have  said  after  the  race  comes  off." 

The  boys  put  on  their  caps  and  trooped  out,  laugh- 
ing and  talking  as  they  went. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MERRIWELL   AND  RATTLETON. 

"Harry!" 

"Hello!" 

"You've  got  to  stop  smoking  those  confounded 
cigarettes." 

Harry  Rattleton  let  his  feet  fall  with  a  thump  from 
the  table  on  which  they  had  been  comfortably  resting 
and  turned  about  to  stare  at  Merriwell,  his  room- 
mate. His  face  expressed  astonishment,  not  unmin- 
gled  with  anger. 

"Will  you  be  good  enough  to  repeat  that  remark?" 
he  said,  exhaling  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  holding  his 
roll  daintily  poised  in  his  fingers. 

"I  said  that  you  must  stop  smoking  cigarettes." 

"Well,  what  did  you  mean?" 

"I  am  in  the  habit  of  saying  what  I  mean,"  was  the 
quiet  answer  as  Frank  scanned  the  paper  over  which 
he  had  been  pondering  for  some  time. 

Harry  got  upon  his  feet,  shoved  one  hand  into  his 
trousers  pocket,  and  stared  in  silence  for  some  seconds 
at  Merriwell.  That  stare  was  most  expressive. 


Merriwell  and  Rattleton.  211 

"Well,  may  I  be  jotally  tiggered — I  mean  totally 
jiggered !"  he  finally  exclaimed. 

"You'll  be  worse  than  that  if  you  keep  on  with  those 
things,"  asserted  Frank.  "You'll  be  totally  wrecked." 

"This  is  the  first  time  you  have  had  the  crust  to  de- 
liberately tell  me  that  I  must  do  anything,"  growled 
Harry,  resentfully.  "And  I  feel  free  to  say  that  I 
don't  like  it  much.  It  is  carrying  the  thing  altogether 
too  far.  I  have  never  told  you  that  you  must  do  this 
thing  or  you  mustn't  do  that.  I  should  have  consid- 
ered that  I  was  beddling  with  something  that  was  none 
of  my  misness — er — meddling  with  something  that 
was  none  of  my  business." 

Frank  perceived  that  his  roommate  was  quite  heated, 
so  he  dropped  the  paper  and  said : 

"Don't  fly  off  the  handle  so  quick,  old  man.  I  am 
speaking  for  your  own  good,  and  you  should  know  it.'* 

"Thank  you!"  sarcastically. 

"But  I  am  in  earnest." 

"Really?"  and  Rattleton  elevated  his  eyebrows. 

"Come  now,"  said  Frank,  "sit  down  and  we  will  talk 
it  over." 

"Talk  it  over,  eh  ?  I  don't  know  why  we  should  talk 
over  a  matter  that  concerns  me  alone." 

"Your  dinner  did  not  set  well.  I  never  saw  you  so 
touchy  in  all  my  life.  You  know  I  am  your  friend,  old 

' 


212  Merriwell  and  Rattleton. 

man,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  you  should  show  such 
a  spirit  toward  me." 

"I  don't  like  to  be  told  what  I  must  do  and  what  I 
mustn't  by  anybody.  That's  all  there  is  about  it." 

Harry  did  sit  down,  but  he  lighted  a  fresh  ciga- 
rette. 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  will  have  your  own  way,  but 
I  want  to  explain  why  I  said  what  I  did.  You  know 
we  are  out  to  beat  the  sophs  in  the  boat  race." 

"Sure." 

"Well,  in  order  to  do  it  every  man  of  us  must  be  in 
the  pink  of  condition.  You  are  not  drinking,  and  Old 
Put  doesn't  know  how  much  you  are  smoking.  If  he 
did  he  would  call  you  down  or  drop  you.  It  is  pretty 
certain  that  Gordon  would  take  your  place." 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  are  going  to  tell  Old  Put  all 
about  it  ?  Is  that  what  you  mean  ?" 

"Not  exactly.  But  you  know  I  have  as  much  inter- 
est in  the  makeup  of  our  crew  as  Old  Put,  although  he 
is  the  man  who  really  has  charge  of  us." 

"Well?" 

"If  I  were  to  say  so,  you  would  be  taken  out  and 
some  one  else  would  fill  your  place." 

"And  would  you  do  that  ?" 

"Not  unless  forced  to  do  so.  You  should  know, 
Harry,  that  I  am  ready  to  stick  by  you  in  anything — if 
I  can." 


Merriwell  and  Rattleton.  213 

"If  you  can !  I  don't  understand  that — hang  me,  if 
I  do!  If  I  have  a  friend  I  am  going  to  stick  to  him 
through  anything,  right  or  wrong!" 

"That's  first  rate  and  it  is  all  right.  If  you  get  into 
any  trouble,  I  fancy  you  will  not  find  anybody  who 
will  stand  by  you  any  longer.  But  this  matter  is  dif- 
ferent. You  are  in  training,  and  you  are  not  supposed 
to  smoke  at  all,  but  you  get  here  in  this  room  and  puff 
away  by  the  hour." 

"What  harm  does  it  do?" 

"A  great  deal." 

"Get  out !     It  doesn't  make  a  dit  of  bifference." 

"That's  what  you  think,  but  I  know  better.  At  Far- 
dale  I  had  a  chum  who  smoked  cigarettes  by  the  stack. 
He  was  a  natural-born  athlete,  but  he  never  seemed 
quite  able  to  take  the  lead  in  anything.  It  was  his 
wind.  I  talked  to  him,  but  he  thought  I  didn't  know. 
Finally  I  induced  him  to  leave  off  smoking  entirely. 
He  did  it,  though  it  was  like  taking  his  teeth.  It  was 
not  long  before  he  showed  an  improvement  in  his  work. 
The  improvement  continued  and  he  went  up  to  the 
very  top.  He  acknowledged  that  he  could  not  have 
accomplished  it  if  he  had  kept  on  with  his  cigarettes. 

"Now,  old  man,"  continued  Frank,  coming  over  and 
putting  a  hand  on  Harry's  shoulder  in  a  friendly  way, 
"I  am  interested  in  you  and  I  want  to  see  you  stay  on 


214  Merriwell  and  Rattleton. 

our  crew.  You  must  know  that  I  am  giving  it  to  you 
straight." 

Harry  was  silent,  gazing  down  at  the  floor,  while  his 
cigarette  was  going  out,  still  held  between  his  fingers. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  that  you  do  not 
.<now,"  Frank  went  on.  "Old  Put  has  been  asking 
me  to  give  Gordon  more  of  a  show.  He  thinks  Gor- 
don is  a  better  man  than  you,  but  I  know  better.  If  you 
will  leave  cigarettes  alone  you  are  the  man  for  the 
place.  Gordon  has  a  beautiful  back  and  splendid 
shoulders,  but  he  lacks  heart,  or  I  am  much  mistaken. 
It  takes  nerve  to  pull  an  oar  in  a  race.  A  man  has  got 
to  keep  at  it  for  all  there  is  in  him  till  he  drops — and 
he  mustn't  drop  till  the  race  is  over.  That's  why  I 
want  you.  I  am  confident  that  you  will  pull  your 
arms  out  before  you  give  up.  But  you  won't  have  the 
wind  for  the  race  unless  you  quit  cigarettes,  and  quit 
them  immediately." 

Harry  was  still  silent,  but  his  head  was  lower  and 
he  was  biting  his  lips.  The  cigarette  in  his  fingers 
had  quite  gone  out. 

"Come  now,  Harry,"  came  earnestly  from  Frank. 
"Just  cut  clear  from  the  things.  They  never  did  any 
man  any  good,  and  they  have  taken  the  wind  and 
nerve  out  of  hundreds.  You  don't  want  me  to  keep 
you  on  the  crew  and  lose  the  race  by  doing  so.  You 
don't  want  it  said  that  I  have  been  partial  to  you  be- 


Merriwell  and  Rattleton.  215 

cause  you  are  my  roommate  and  particular  friend. 
That's  what  will  be  said  if  things  go  wrong.  The  fel- 
lows will  declare  I  was  prejudiced  against  Gordon,  and 
they  will  not  be  to  blame  unless  you  can  prove  your- 
self the  best  man.  I  have  nothing  against  Gordon, 
and  I  am  bound  to  use  him  as  white  as  I  can.  I  have 
explained  why  I  don't  want  him  on  the  crew,  and  I 
have  tried  to  make  it  clear  why  I'll  have  to  let  him 
come  on  at  once,  unless  you  drop  cigarettes.  How  is 
it,  my  boy?  What  do  you  say?" 

Harry  got  up  and  went  into  the  bedroom.  A  mo- 
ment later  he  came  out  with  a  big  package  of  cigar- 
ettes in  his  hands.  He  opened  the  window  and  flung 
them  as  far  as  possible. 

"There!"  he  cried.  "By  the  mumping  Joses — I 
mean  the  jumping  Moses!  I'm  done  with  'em.  I'm 
not  going  to  smoke  them  any  more !" 

"Good  boy!"  laughed  Frank,  his  face  full  of  satis- 
faction. "Shake!" 

They  clasped  hands. 

Rat-tat-tat!     A  knock  at  the  door. 

"Come  in." 

The  door  opened  and  Dismal  Jones,  his  face  longer 
and  sadder  than  usual,. came  slouching  into  the  room. 

"Hello,  Jones,  old  boy!"  cried  Frank,  cheerfully. 
"What  is  troubling  you  now?  You  look  like  a  fu- 
neral." 


216  Merriwell  and  Rattleton. 

"I'm  mad,"  said  Dismal  in  a  spiritless  way. 

"Is  that  what  ails  you  ?  I'd  never  suspected  it  from 
your  appearance." 

"Appearances  are  oftentimes  deceitful,"  croaked 
Jones.  "Whosoever  is  deceived  thereby  is  not  wise." 

"Well,  sit  down  and  tell  us  all  about  it,"  invited 
Frank,  offering  a  chair.  "My  boy,  it  must  be  that  you 
are  studying  too  hard.  You  have  the  outward  ap- 
pearance of  a  greasy  grind." 

"What's  that  I  just  told  you  about  appearances? 
You  are  too  hasty  in  your  judgments.  The  trouble 
with  me  this  evening  is  that  I  have  found  out  some- 
thing." 

"I  never  supposed  it  would  trouble  you  like  this." 

"Wait.     You  do  not  know  what  it  is." 

"That's  right.     What  is  it?" 

Frank  was  familiar  with  Dismal's  queer  ways,  and 
he  knew  it  was  not  easy  to  tell  when  this  son  of  a 
"shouting  Methodist"  was  jollying  and  when  he  was 
in  earnest;  but  now  he  was  convinced  that  Jones  was 
really  serious,  and  he  felt  that  there  must  be  some  cause 
for  it. 

Harry,  strangely  sobered  and  silent,  sat  listening. 
He  could  not  understand  Jones,  and  he  was  on  his 
guard,  knowing  how  often  the  fellow  turned  into  a 
farce  what  seemed  a  serious  matter. 


Merriwell  and  Rattleton.  217 

Dismal  locked  his  fingers  and  twiddled  his  thumbs. 
He  cleared  his  throat  and  then  said : 

"Merry,  what  would  you  say  if  I  were  to  tell  every- 
thing I  could  find  out  about  our  crew  to  the  sophs  ?" 

"I  should  say  you  were  a  confounded  sneak!" 

"Hum!  I  kinder  thought  you'd  say  something 
like  that." 

"But  you  do  not  know  too  much  about  the  crew." 

"I  know  something,  and  I  could  know  more  if  I  had 
a  mind  to.  All  I  would  have  to  do  would  be  to  play 
the  spy  a  little." 

"Well,  I  suppose  that  is  right.     What  about  it?" 

"Somebody  is  playing  the  spy." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"I've  got  it  straight  enough,  for  the  sophs  know  all 
about  what  our  crew  is  doing.  They  are  laughing  over 
the  Oxford  stroke  and  the  English  oars." 

"How  do  you  know  this?" 

"Heard  'em." 

"When?" 

"To-night." 

"Where?" 

"On  the  street.  Browning  and  a  party  were  going 
down  to  Morey's,  and  they  were  having  a  high  old  time 
with  Hartwick,  who  was  explaining  the  advantages 
of  the  stroke  and  the  oars  our  crew  has  adopted." 

"That's  not  proof  that  somebody  has  played  the 


218  Merriwell  and  Rattleton. 

spy.  It  may  have  slipped  out  through  the  carelessness 
»f  some  of  our  men." 

"It  may.  But  I  don't  think  so.  I  heard  Emery 
^sk  Hart  wick  how  he  knew  so  much  about  us." 

"What  did  Hartwick  say?"  Frank  eagerly  asked. 

"He  said  he  had  a  nice  fresh  flat  who  thought  it  a 
fine  thing  to  play  the  spy  and  blab  all  he  found  out." 

"Blay  bluses — I  mean  blue  blazes!"  cried  Harry, 
banging  his  fist  down  on  the  table.  "That's  what 
makes  me  cot  under  the  hollar!  A  man  who  would 
do  a  thing  like  that  will  steal  a  sheep!  I'd  like  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  thumping  him  a  few  times — just  a 
few!" 

Merriwell  was  silent,  a  dark  look  on  his  face. 

"It  will  not  be  healthy  for  the  spy  if  I  catch  him," 
he  finally  declared.  "I'll  make  it  pretty  hot  for  him 
around  here!" 

"Which  would  be  a  highly  commendable  action," 
bowed  Dismal. 

"Have  you  any  idea  who  would  do  such  a  low-down 
\hing?"  asked  Harry. 

"Sometimes  we  have  ideas  which  we  do  not  care  to 
•xpress." 

"That's  right ;  but  in  a  case  like  this — confidentially 
— to  us,  you  know " 

"Well,  if  I  say  anything,  it  is  to  be  strictly  confi- 
dential." 


Merriwell  and  Rattleton.  219 

"Sure!"  cried  Frank  and  Harry  in  a  breath. 

"You  both  give  me  your  word  for  it?" 

"We  do." 

"If  I  knew,  I  would  not  hesitate  to  come  out  openly 
and  accuse  the  fellow,"  said  Dismal;  "but  this  is 
merely  a  case  of  suspicion,  and  I  will  tell  you  who  I 
suspect." 

"Go  ahead." 

"Well,  there  is  a  certain  fellow  who  has  not  been 
above  playing  into  the  hands  of  the  sophs  in  the  past, 
and  it  is  natural  for  me  to  suspect  him.  His  name 

The  door  opened,  and  Roland  Ditson  came  m  with- 
out knocking. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WHO     IS     THE     TRAITOR? 

"Hello,  fellows!"  cried  Ditson.  "How  are  yer, 
Jones !  I  am  surprised  to  see  you  here.  Is  it  possible 
you  have  let  up  cramming  long  enough  to  make  a 
call?  Why,  I  have  even  heard  that  you  had  your  eye 
on  some  classical  scholarship  prize  as  soon  as  this. 
Everybody  who  knows  you  says  you're  a  regular  hard- 
working old  dig." 

"There  are  fools  who  know  other  people's  business 
i  great  deal  better  than  their  own,"  said  Dismal  stiffly. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Ditson,  who  made  a  great 
effort  to  be  rakish  in  his  appearance,  but  always  ap- 
peared rather  foxy  instead.  "But  I  tell  you  this  mat- 
ter of  burning  the  midnight  oil  and  grinding  is  not 
what  it's  cracked  up  to  be.  It  makes  a  man  old  be- 
fore his  time,  and  it  doesn't  amount  to  much  after  he 
has  been  all  through  it.  Goodness  knows  we  fresh- 
men have  to  cram  hard  enough  to  get  through !  I  am 
tired  of  it  already.  And  then  we  have  to  live  outside 
the  pale,  as  it  were.  When  we  become  sophs  we'll  be 
able  to  give  up  boarding  houses  and  live  in  the  dor- 
mitories. That's  what  I  am  anxious  for." 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  221 

"It  strikes  me  that  you  are  very  partial  to  sophs," 
said  Dismal,  giving  Roll  a  piercing  look. 

Ditson  was  not  fazed. 

"They're  a  rather  clever  gang  of  fellows,"  he  said. 
"Freshmen  are  very  new,  as  a  rule.  Of  course  there 
are  exceptions,  and " 

"I  suppose  you  consider  yourself  one?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell  about  that.  But  supposing  I  am; 
by  the  time  I  become  a  soph  some  of  the  newness  will 
have  worn  off." 

"I  am  not  particularly  impressed  with  any  fresh- 
man who  seems  to  think  so  much  of  sophomores.  You 
ought  to  stay  with  them  all  the  time." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  They  have  treated  me  rather 
well,  and  I  have  found  the  most  of  them  easy  people." 

"They  seem  to  have  found  some  freshman  easy  fruit. 
Somebody  has  been  blowing  to  them  about  our  crew." 

"I  know  it,"  was  Ditson's  surprising  confession, 
"and  that's  why  I  dropped  in  here.  I  wanted  to  tell 
Merriwell  about  it." 

Jones  gasped  for  breath.  He  was  too  surprised  to 
speak  for  some  minutes. 

Ditson  took  out  a  package  of  cigarettes,  offering 
them  first  to  Harry,  who  shook  his  head. 

"What?"  cried  Roll,  amazed.    "You  won't  smoke?" 

"No." 

"What's  that  mean?" 


222  Who  is  the  Traitor  ? 

"I  have  left  off,"  said  Harry,  with  an  effort. 

"Left  off?  Oh,  say!  that's  too  good!  You  leave 
off!" 

A  bit  of  color  came  to  Rattleton's  face,  and  he  gave 
Ditson  a  look  that  was  not  exactly  pleasant;  but  Roll 
was  too  occupied  with  his  merriment  to  observe  it. 

Frank  was  studying  Ditson.  He  watched  the  fel- 
low's every  movement  and  expression. 

Roll  knew  it  was  useless  to  offer  cigarettes  to  Mer- 
riwell  or  Jones,  so  he  selected  one  from  the  package, 
kneaded  it  daintily,  pulled  a  little  tobacco  from  the  ends, 
moistened  the  paper  with  his  lips,  and  then  lighted  it 
with  a  wax  match. 

"Say,  Harry,  old  man,  I  pity  you,"  he  said,  with  a 
taunting  laugh,  looking  at  Harry.  "I've  tried  it  It's 
no  use.  You'll  break  over  before  two  days  are  up — 
yes,  before  one  day  is  up.  It's  no  use." 

Rattleton  bit  his  lips. 

"Why,  you  are  dying  for  a  whiff  now!"  chuckled 
Ditson.  "I  know  you  are.  I  got  along  a  whole  day, 
but  it  was  a  day  of  the  most  intense  torture." 

"There  may  be  others  with  more  stamina  than  you. 
Ditson,"  snapped  Rattleton.  "Just  because  you 
couldn't  leave  off  a  bad  habit,  it's  no  sign  that  nobody 
can." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  not     But  what's  the  use?     Don't 


Who  is  the  Traitor  ?  225 

get  hot,  old  man.     You  ought  to  know  my  way  by 
this  time." 

"I  do." 

"What  is  it  that  you  came  to  tell  me?"  asked  Frani 

"Eh  ?     Oh,  about  the  sophs.     Those  fellows  seem  t 
know  more  about  our  crew  than  I  do." 

"What  do  they  know  ?" 

"Why,  they  know  our  men  are  using  English  oars, 
have  adopted  a  new  stroke,  and  have  done  several  other 
things.  Now,  those  are  matters  on  which  I  was  not 
informed  myself." 

"How  do  you  know  the  sophs  know  so  much  ?" 

"I've  just  come  from  Morey's.  Went  in  there  with 
Cressy.  Fine  fellow,  he  is.  While  I  was  in  there 
Browning  and  his  crowd  wandered  in.  They  were 
drinking  ale  and  discussing  the  race.  I  heard  what 
they  were  saying.  Couldn't  help  hearing,  you  know. 
They  were  talking  about  our  crew  and  the  new  meth- 
ods you  had  introduced.  It  was  mighty  interesting 
to  me,  as  I  didn't  know  about  those  new  methods  my- 
self." 

"How  innocent !"  muttered  Jones. 

Ditson  elevated  his  eyebrows. 

"What's  that?"  he  demanded.  "Why  shouldn't  1 
be  innocent?  I  am  not  on  the  crew,  and  the  men  are 
training  and  practicing  secretly.  I  have  had  no  way 
of  finding  out  what  they  were  doing/' 


224  Who  is  the  Traitor  ? 

"But  some  sneak  has !"  cried  Rattleton,  fiercely,  "and 
he's  been  and  blowed  all  he  found  out !" 

"Unless  somebody  on  the  crew  has  done  the  blow- 
ing," suggested  Roll,  exhaling  a  great  puff  of  smoke. 
"That  is  barely  possible,  you  understand." 

"Possible !  No !"  cried  Frank.  "There's  not  a  man 
on  the  crew  who  would  do  such  a  thing !" 

"Oh,  well,  I  suppose  you  know.  But  I  understand 
there  are  two  who  are  kept  in  form  as  substitutes.  One 
of  them  thinks  he  should  be  on  the  crew.  He  is  rather 
jealous  of  somebody  who  fills  his  place.  He  might  be 
the  one  who  has  talked  too  much." 

"You  don't  mean " 

"Rattleton  ought  to  be  able  to  guess  who  I  mean," 
craftily  said  Ditson  as  he  arose.  "I'm  not  calling 
names,  for  I  don't  know  anything  certain.  If  I  had 
proof — but  I  haven't.  Never  mind.  You  ought  to 
know  enough  to  watch  a  certain  fellow  who  thinks  his 
place  is  filled  by  a  person  not  his  equal.  He  says  there 
is  favoritism  in  the  matter.  I  rather  think  I  have 
spoken  plainly  enough.  Wish  you  success,  Merry,  old 
r.an.  Evening,  fellows." 

Ditson  departed. 

Our  hero,  Rattleton  and  Jones  sat  and  looked  at 
each  other  in  grim  silence  for  several  minutes. 

"Well?" 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  225 

Frank  broke  the  spell,  looking  keenly  at  Jones  as  he 
Spoke. 

"I  dunno,"  mumbled  Dismal,  falling  into  the  man- 
ner of  speaking  that  had  been  habitual  with  him  from 
his  childhood.  "I  dunno — hanged  if  I  do!" 

"You  thought  you  knew  when  you  came  in,  my 
boy." 

"That's  right;  but  I  dunno  but  I  was  off  my  trolley. 
And  still " 

"Still  what?" 

"I  don't  like  the  man  I  suspected,  but  I  never 
thought  the  fellow  shrewd  enough  to  play  a  double 
game." 

"Perhaps  it  is  because  you  do  not  like  him  that  you 
suspected  him." 

"Oh,  it  may  be — it  may  be  And  I  don't  suppose 
that  is  a  square  deal.  I  didn't  have  absolute  proof." 

"You  were  going  to  name  him  when  Ditson  came 
in." 

"I  was,  but  I  will  not  call  any  names  now.  I  pro- 
pose to  look  into  this  matter  somewhat.  Likely  it's 
too  late  to  prevent  the  traitor  from  completing  the 
damage,  but  he  can  be  exposed.  It  will  be  some  satis- 
faction to  see  him  held  up  to  public  scorn." 

"That  is  true,  Dismal,  and  I  want  you  to  do  your 
best  to  find  out  who  the  man  is.  Make  a  sure  thing 
of  it.  Get  positive  proof,  if  possible." 


226  Who  is  the  Traitor  ? 

"Whoever  he  is  his  sin  is  sure  to  find  him  out." 

There  were  footsteps  on  the  stairs  and  the  sound 
of  laughing  voices.  The  door  burst  open  and  several 
freshmen  came  trooping  in,  as  if  they  felt  quite  at  home 
there.  Lucy  Little  was  at  their  head,  and  his  face 
showed  excitement. 

"I  say,  Merriwell  I"  he  cried,  "are  you  out  for  a  little 
sport  to-night?" 

"That  depends  on  what  sort  of  sport  it  is." 

"  'Sh !"  said  Little,  mysteriously.  "Close  the  door, 
uncle." 

A  fellow  by  the  name  of  Silas  Blossom,  who  was 
familiarly  called  "uncle,"  obeyed. 

Little  looked  at  Rattleton  and  then  stared  hard  at 
Jones,  who  had  the  face  of  a  parson. 

"I  don't  know  about  you,"  he  said,  "but  I  think  you 
are  all  right.  Even  if  you  have  scruples  I  don't  be- 
lieve you  will  blow." 

"Very  kind !"  grunted  Dismal. 

"The  rest  of  the  gang  is  all  right,"  said  Little. 

"Then  give  us  your  scheme,"  spluttered  Harry, 
whose  curiosity  was  thoroughly  aroused.  "Don't  bush 
around  the  beat — I  mean  beat  around  the  bush." 

"What  do  you  fellows  say  to  a  turkey  chase?" 
asked  Little. 

"A  turkey  chase?" 

"Yes.     Out  around  West  Rock  way.     There  are 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  227 

plenty  of  old  farmers  who  have  good  fat  turkeys  out 
that  way.  It  is  a  good  cool  night,  and  we  can  capture 
two  turkeys  without  trouble.  Then  we'll  take  'em  in 
here  and  have  a  roast.  Are  you  wid  us  ?" 

"Those  who  are  not  wid  us  are  agin'  us!"  fiercely 
declared  Bandy  Robinson. 

"And  that  is  dead  right,  me  b'hoys,"  nodded  Arthur 
Street,  who  was  known  at  Yale  as  Easy  Street,  on  ac- 
count of  his  free-and-easy  way. 

Merriwell  hesitated.  He  was  in  for  any  kind  of 
honest  sport,  but  he  did  not  quite  fancy  the  idea  of 
stealing  turkeys. 

"Why  don't  we  buy  our  turkeys  at  the  markets?" 
he  asked. 

The  other  lads  stared  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"Buy  them!"  they  shouted.  "Say,  are  you  dafty, 
man?  Where  would  the  fun  come  in?  You  know 
better  than  to  propose  such  a  thing." 

"Stolen  fruit  is  ever  the  sweetest,"  quoth  Uncle 
Blossom.  "It's  not  many  fellows  we  would  take  into 
such  a  scheme,  but  you  were  just  the  man  we  wanted, 
Merriwell.  If  we  bought  a  turkey  we  wouldn't  have 
any  appetite  for  it.  Now,  the  run  out  into  the  country 
and  back  will  give  us  an  appetite.  One  fellow  will 
have  to  stay  here  and  get  the  fire  ready,  while  the  rest 
of  us  chase  turks.  Come  on,  man — it's  what  you  need 
to  start  your  blood  circulating." 


228  Who  is  the  Traitor? 

Merriwell  seemed  to  suddenly  make  up  his  mind. 

"I  am  with  you,"  he  said  as  he  arose.  "Who  stays 
and  looks  after  the  fire?  We  don't  want  anybody 
along  that  can't  run." 

"Well,  I'm  no  sprinter,"  confessed  Dismal.  "I'd 
like  to  go  along,  but  I'm  afraid  I'd  peg  out.  I'll  have 
things  ready  when  you  show  up.  But  what  time  will 
you  be  back?" 

Frank  looked  at  his  watch  and  then  made  a  mental 
calculation. 

"It  will  be  about  eleven,"  he  said. 

"All  right." 

"Say,  Jones,"  said  Street,  "just  go  down  to  Billy's 
and  get  a  few  bottles  of  beer.  We'll  need  it  to  wash 
the  turk  down." 

"And  cigars,"  cried  Blossom.  "Don't  forget  cigars. 
What  would  a  turkey  feast  be  without  a  smoke  after- 
ward ?" 

Matters  were  soon  arranged,  and  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore five  freshmen  left  Mrs.  Harrington's  "quiet  house" 
for  freshmen,  and  started  along  York  Street  at  a  brisk, 
steady  jog. 

Merriwell  took  the  lead,  and  the  others  came  after 
him  at  regular  distances.  The  night  air  was  rathe- 
sharp,  and  there  was  a  bright  moon. 

Along  the  streets  of  New  Haven  the  five  freshmen 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  229 

ran,  and  those  who  observed  them  supposed  they  were 
some  crew  in  training. 

Merriwell  set  a  moderate  pace,  for  he  knew  it  was 
likely  they  would  need  all  their  wind  on  the  return. 
There  was  no  telling  what  sort  of  a  scrape  they  might 
get  into. 

Rattleton  was  behind,  taking  things  as  easy  as  pos- 
sible. He  filled  his  lungs  with  the  crisp,  clear  air, 
and  it  made  him  feel  like  a  young  race  horse,  but  he 
held  himself  in  check. 

Street  actually  loafed  along,  although  he  managed 
to  keep  his  place. 

"If  one  of  us  is  caught,  he'll  be  like  the  gangplank 
of  a  steamer,"  called  Harry  as  they  left  the  main  part 
of  the  city  and  entered  the  suburbs. 

"How's  that?"  asked  Blossom. 

"Pulled  in;"  chirped  Rattleton.  "Don't  stop  to 
throw  anything  this  way.  Keep  right  on." 

"They  say  Browning  was  caught  swiping  turks  in 
his  freshman  year,"  said  Lewis,  "and  it  cost  his  old 
man  a  round  sum  to  settle  and  keep  the  thing  quiet,  so 
Bruce  wouldn't  be  expelled.  Dad  Browning  has  got 
money  to  burn." 

"Well,  his  son's  a  good  match  for  him,"  Merriwell 
tossed  over  his  shoulder. 

"A  good  match  for  him !  Oh,  say !"  gasped  Robin- 
son, exhibiting  signs  of  sudden  weakness. 


230  Who  is  the  Traitor? 

Away  they  went,  laughing  and  jesting,  finally  leav- 
ing the  city  behind  and  getting  out  into  the  country. 
Up  hill  and  down  dale  they  steadily  jogged,  covering 
mile  after  mile  in  a  rather  surprising  manner. 

At  length  Merriwell  called  a  halt,  and  they  held  a 
council  of  war.  Blossom  said  he  knew  where  they 
were  certain  to  find  turkeys,  and  so  they  gave  him  the 
lead.  He  confessed  that  there  was  a  chance  of  getting 
into  trouble,  as  the  owner  of  the  turkeys  had  been 
robbed  before,  and  he  might  be  on  the  watch.  That 
simply  added  zest  to  the  adventure,  and  there  was  not 
one  of  the  party  who  would  have  consented  to  look 
elsewhere  for  their  turkeys. 

They  finally  came  in  sight  of  a  farmhouse  that  sat 
on  the  side  of  a  hill.  Near  the  house  was  a  stable 
and  sheds.  A  large  orchard  lay  back  of  the  sheds. 

"There,"  said  Blossom.  "That  is  where  old  Bald- 
win lives,  and  his  turks  are  in  one  of  those  sheds." 

"Crumping  jickets — I  mean  jumping  crickets!"  ex- 
claimed Harry.  "How  bright  the  moon  shines !  If 
he's  on  the  watch  we  can't  get  anywhere  near  those 
sheds  without  being  seen." 

The  boys  began  to  realize  that  they  were  engaged  in 
a  decidedly  perilous  adventure.  If  one  of  them  should 
be  caught  it  would  mean  almost  certain  expulsion  from 
college,  besides  a  heavy  fine  if  the  case  were  carried 
to  court. 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  231 

"We'll  have  to  approach  by  way  of  the  orchard," 
said  Frank.  "Does  Baldwin  keep  a  dog?" 

"Sure— a  big  half-blood  bull." 

"That's  nice.  We  are  liable  to  find  plenty  of  fun 
here.  Every  man  must  provide  himself  with  a  stout 
and  heavy  club  to  use  on  that  dog  in  case  of  emergency. 
That  is  important.  The  lights  are  out,  and  it  looks 
as  if  the  farmer  and  his  family  were  sleeping  soundly, 
but,  as  Jones  says,  appearances  are  sometimes  deceptive. 
We'll  have  to  take  our  chances.  Three  of  us  will  go 
through  the  orchard.  The  other  two  must  get  near 
the  house  in  front  and  be  ready  to  create  a  diversion  in 
case  we  are  discovered.  Harry,  you  and  Bandy  take 
the  front.  You  are  both  good  runners.  If  Mr.  Bald- 
win and  his  dog  get  after  us,  attract  his  attention  in 
some  manner." 

"And  get  him  after  us?" 

"That's  the  idea." 

"Jupiter !  I  wish  I  had  brought  a  gun  for  that  dog ! 
Bandy,  you  are  liable  to  have  to  use  those  crooked 
legs  of  yours  in  a  decidedly  lively  manner  before  the 
night  is  over." 

When  everything  was  arranged  Harry  and  Bandy 
advanced  along  the  road,  going  forward  slowly,  while 
Frank,  Blossom  and  Little  made  a  detour  and  came 
into  the  orchard. 

The  hearts  of  the  boys  were  in  their  throats,  and  still 


232  Who  is  the  Traitor? 

there  was  something  about  the  adventure  that  filled 
them  with  the  keenest  delight. 

Each  one  had  secured  a  club,  and  they  were  read" 
to  give  the  dog  a  warm  reception  if  he  came  for  them. 

Little  watched  beneath  a  tree,  while  Merriwell  and 
Blossom  slipped  up  to  one  of  the  sheds  which  had  a 
favorable  look. 

In  the  meantime  Rattleton  and  Robinson  had  got 
near  the  front  of  the  house  and  were  hiding  in  a  ditch, 
waiting  and  listening. 

"I  am  surprised  that  Merriwell  should  agree  to  take 
a  hand  in  this,"  whispered  Harry.  "He  is  a  queer 
chap — has  scruples  about  doing  certain  things.  I 
thought  he  would  object  to  hooking  out  a  turk." 

"Oh,  such  a  thing  as  this  isn't  really  stealing,"  pro- 
tested Robinson.  "It  is  different." 

"In  our  minds,  but  not  in  the  mind  of  Farmer  Bald- 
win, by  a  long  shot.  If  we're  caught  it  will  be  called 
stealing." 

"Oh,  well,  a  fellow  who  won't  do  anything  like  this 
is  too  good  for  this  world.  He's  got  wings  sprout- 
ing." 

"You  know  well  enough  that  Merriwell  is  no  softie.' 
returned  Harry,  rather  warmly.     "He's  proved  that. 
Any  man  has  a  right  to  his  ideas,  and  if  he  thinks  . 
thing  wrong  he's  justified  in  refusing  to  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it." 


Who  is  the  Traitor?  233 

"Perhaps  so;  but  Merriwell  is  right  on  the  limit 
now." 

"How?" 

"He  will  not  drink,  he  does  not  smoke,  and  I  never 
have  heard  him  cuss." 

"Does  it  make  a  fellow  a  man  to  drink  and  smoke 
and  swear?  I  tell  you  you'll  go  a  long  distance  be- 
fore you  find  a  fellow  who  is  any  more  of  a  man  than 
Frank  Merriwell.  I  was  dead  lucky  when  I  got  him 
for  a  roommate." 

"You're  stuck  on  him.  I  say  he  is  all  right,  bul 
he  is  on  the  limit.  I  believe  the  fellows  would  like 
him  better  if  he  would  break  over  once  in  a  while." 

"I  doubt  it  But  it  is  awful  still  around  here.  1 
wonder  where  that  dog  can  be?  It  would  be  a  sur- 
prise if  the  fellows  got  away  with  the  turks  without 
making  any  noise  at " 

There  was  a  sudden  hubbub,  a  terrible  squalling  and 
squawking,  the  barking  of  a  dog,  and  the  report  of  a 
gun! 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A     HOT     CHASE. 

"My  stars!"  gasped  Harry.  "There's  trouble,  sure 
enough !" 

"I  should  remark!"  palpitated  Robinson.  'Til  bet 
a  dollar  one  of  the  fellows  is  full  of  shot!" 

"And  somebody  is  in  danger  of  being  full  of  teeth 
directly.  Come,  this  is  our  time  to  create  a  diversion." 

Then  Harry  let  himself  out.  He  whooped  like  a 
wild  Indian  and  pranced  right  up  toward  the  house. 
Robinson  followed  the  good  example,  but  they  did  not 
seem  very  successful  in  attracting  attention  to  them- 
selves. 

Two  dark  figures  were  seen  scudding  through  the 
orchard,  and  then  a  man  came  out  of  the  house,  slam- 
ming the  door  and  shouting: 

"Sick  'em,  Tige — sick  the  pesky  rascals!  Chaw 
'em  up!  Don't  let  'em  git  erway!  Take  'em,  dorg!" 

The  dog  was  doing  his  duty  in  the  vicinity  of  one 
of  the  sheds,  but  his  barking  suddenly  turned  to 
howls  of  pain,  and  several  blows  were  distinctly  heard. 

Despite  the  two  yelling  and  dancing  lads  in  the 


A  Hot  Chase.  235 

road,  the  old  farmer  made  for  the  shed,  and  it  was 
seen  that  he  had  a  gun  in  his  hands. 

"He's  going  to  shoot  somebody!"  cried  Harry, 
wildly.  "We  must  hake  a  tand— er — take  a  hand  in 
this !  Come  on !" 

With  all  the  speed  he  could  command  Rattleton 
dashed  after  the  farmer.  The  barking  of  the  dog  had 
suddenly  ceased,  and  a  third  dark  figure  was  seen 
scudding  through  the  orchard. 

"Stop,  you  pesky  thief!"  yelled  the  farmer.  "If  you 
don't  stop  I'll  shoot!  I'll  fire  ye  full  of  lead!" 

Then  he  halted  and  raised  his  gun  to  his  shoulder. 
He  was  quite  unaware  that  Harry  was  now  quite  close 
upon  him. 

When  Rattleton  saw  the  man  raise  the  gun  he  swung 
back  the  hand  that  held  the  heavy  stick.  With  all  his 
strength  he  hurled  the  stick  at  the  farmer. 

Whiz !  It  sped  through  the  air  and  struck  the  man 
fairly  between  the  shoulders.  At  the  same  instant  the 
gun  spoke,  but  the  farmer  went  down  in  a  heap,  and 
his  aim  was  spoiled. 

"Had  to  do  it  to  save  some  one  of  the  fellows  from 
carrying  off  a  load  of  buckshot,"  muttered  Rattleton, 
who  was  desperate.  "I  don't  want  to  see  anybody 
shot  to-night." 

He  did  not  stop  running,  but  he  dashed  straight  up 
to  the  man,  snatched  up  the  gttn,  and  fled  onward. 


236  A  Hot  Chase. 

"Hey!  hey!"  cried  the  man,  as  he  scrambled  to  his 
feet.  "Consarnyou!  Drop  that  gun !  Bring  it  back !" 

"Come  get  it !"  invited  Harry,  with  a  defiant  laugh. 

The  farmer  started  after  the  boy,  who  led  him  a 
merry  chase  across  the  fields  and  over  the  fences. 
Harry  kept  just  far  enough  ahead  to  lure  the  panting 
man  on. 

"If  I  ever  git  my  hands  on  ye  you'll  go  to  jail !" 
declared  the  farmer.  "I'll  learn  you  pesky  rascals  a 
lesson !" 

"Teach — not  learn,  uncle,"  Harry  flung  back.  "You 
should  be  more  careful  about  your  grammar." 

"I  believe  you  are  one  of  them  consarned  student 
fellers." 

"You  are  a  wonderful  guesser." 

"If  I  can't  ketch  ye  I'll  report  ye." 

When  he  had  lead  the  man  far  enough  so  that  he 
was  sure  the  other  fellows  had  plenty  of  start,  Harry 
tossed  aside  the  gun,  which  was  an  old  muzzle-loading, 
single-barreled  affair. 

The  panting  farmer  stopped  and  picked  up  the  gun, 
then  he  stood  and  shook  his  fist  at  Rattleton,  who  was 
speeding  away  like  a  deer. 

"Oh,  I'll  report  ye — I  will,  by  jee!"  he  vowed  over 
and  over. 

In  the  meantime  Merriwell  had  had  a  most  exciting 
adventure.  He  had  found  the  turkey  roost  and  had 


A  Hot  Chase.  237 

selected  the  biggest  old  gobbler  of  them  all.  But  the 
gobbler  was  a  hard  customer  and  he  showed  fight, 
whereupon  there  was  a  general  squawking  and  squall- 
ing. 

Clinging  to  his  capture,  Frank  made  a  dash  for  the 
door.  He  tripped  and  fell,  and  it  is  certain  that  by 
falling  he  saved  himself  from  carrying  off  a  charge 
of  shot,  if  not  from  death.  He  had  tripped  over  a 
rope  that  connected  with  a  spring  gun,  which  was  dis- 
charged, and  some  of  the  shot  tore  through  his  coat 
sleeve. 

Then  he  heard  the  dog,  and  he  knew  he  was  in  for 
a  hot  time.  He  gave  the  old  gobbler's  neck  a  fierce 
wring,  then  dropped  the  turkey  just  in  time  to  meet 
the  dog. 

The  creature  sprang  for  Frank's  throat,  and  the 
boy  struck  him  with  the  club  which  he  had  brougnt 
along.  The  dog  dropped  to  the  ground,  but  imme- 
diately made  another  dash.  Frank  was  fortunate  in 
getting  in  a  lick  that  stretched  the  animal  quivering  on 
the  ground. 

He  could  hear  Rattleton  and  Robinson  whooping 
wildly,  but  he  knew  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  getting 
away,  so  he  caugh  up  the  gobbler  and  ran. 

Frank  heard  the  farmer  calling  for  him  to  stop,  but, 
with  Mr.  Gobbler  dangling  on  his  back,  he  fled  the 
faster. 


2}8  A  Hot  Chase. 

The  gun  spoke,  but  he  was  not  touched,  and  he  did 
not  stop  to  look  around,  so  he  did  not  know  how  Harry 
had  saved  him. 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour  later  the  five  fellows  who 
had  started  out  on  the  turkey  chase  met  on  the  outskirts 
of  New  Haven.  They  came  up  one  at  a  time,  Rattle- 
ton  being  the  last  to  appear.  There  was  a  general  feel- 
ing of  relief  when  it  was  found  that  all  were  there  safe 
and  sound. 

It  was  decided  that  they  should  go  into  the  city  one 
at  a  time,  taking  different  routes.  Frank  believed  he 
could  reach  the  house  without  being  stopped,  although 
it  would  be  no  very  easy  job. 

He  was  remarkably  successful  until  he  was  on  York 
Street  and  close  to  Mrs.  Harrington's.  The  street 
seemed  clear,  and  he  wondered  where  all  the  fellows 
could  be,  when  of  a  sudden  a  tall  form  in  dark  clothes 
stepped  right  out  before  him.  He  gave  a  gasp,  for  at 
a  glance  he  seemed  to  recognize  one  of  the  professors. 

"Young  man,"  sternly  said  a  familiar  voice,  "what 
have  you  there?" 

"It's  Professor  Grant!"  thought  Frank,  aghast. 

The  professor  blocked  his  way.     What  could  he  do? 

Quick  as  a  flash  he  swung  the  gobbler  around  and 
struck  his  challenger  a  smashing  blow  with  it,  knock- 
ing him  sprawling. 


A  Hot  Chase.  239 

Then  he  took  to  his  heels,  still  holding  fast  to  his 
capture. 

In  a  moment  he  heard  the  sound  of  feet  in  pursuit, 
and  he  knew  the  outraged  professor  was  after  him. 

Frank's  heart  was  in  his  mouth,  and  he  felt  scared 
for  the  first  time  that  night  He  was  certain  it  would 
mean  expulsion  to  be  caught. 

For  all  of  the  running  he  had  done  that  night,  he  fled 
like  a  frightened  deer,  occasionally  glancing  over  his 
shoulder.  He  had  never  dreamed  that  Professor  Grant 
was  a  sprinter,  but  the  man  was  running  at  great  speed 
— seemed  to  be  gaining. 

"Stop,  sir !"  cried  the  pursuer.     "I  tell  you  to  stop !" 

"Not  much!"  thought  Frank.  "I  won't  stop!  If 
you  catch  me  your  wind  is  better  than  I  think  it  is." 

He  did  not  dare  go  into  his  house,  so  he  dashed 
past,  cut  into  another  street,  turned  corner  after  cor- 
ner, and  still  he  found  himself  pursued.  It  seemed 
marvelous  that  Professor  Grant  could  keep  up  such  a 
pace. 

Finally  the  pursuer  called: 

"Merriwell,  is  that  you  ?" 

No  answer. 

"I  know  you,"  declared  the  pursuer,  and  now  Frank 
perceived  that  that  voice  did  not  sound  like  Professor 
Grant.  "You  are  a  crackajack  runner.  I  wanted  to 


240  A  Hot  Chase. 

give  you  a  try  to  see  what  you  could  do.  I'll  see  you 
to-morrow.  Good-night." 

The  pursuer  gave  up  the  chase, 

"As  I  live,  I  believe  it  was  Pierson,  manager  of  the 
ball  team !"  muttered  Frank  when  he  was  sure  it  was 
no  trick  and  he  was  no  longer  followed.  "He  looks 
something  like  Professor  Grant,  and  he  is  a  great 
mimic.  That's  just  who  it  was." 

A  short  time  later  he  was  in  his  room,  where  a  jovial 
party  of  freshmen  was  gathered. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

ROAST   TURKEY. 

Frank's  appearance,  with  the  turkey  still  in  his  pos- 
session, was  hailed  with  shouts  of  delight. 

"We  didn't  know  as  you  would  get  in,"  said  Jones. 
"I  invited  some  more  of  the  fellows  up  here,  as  you  see, 
and  we  found  out  that  some  of  the  sophs  seemed  to 
know  something  unusual  was  going  on." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Rattleton.  "They  were  lay- 
ing for  us.  Two  of  them  stopped  me  when  I  reached 
York  Street.  They  told  me  to  give  up  what  I  had,  but 
I  didn't  have  anything  to  give  up,  so  they  let  me  go." 

Then  Frank  told  of  his  adventure  with  a  person  who 
looked  like  Professor  Grant. 

"That's  it!"  cried  Little.  "That  was  their  game! 
They  were  after  our  turkey." 

"But  how  did  they  know  we  were  after  turkey?" 
asked  Robinson. 

"They  must  have  been  told  by  somebody,"  said 
Street. 

"And  that  means  we  have  a  tattler  among  us,"  de- 
clared Burnham  Putnam — Old  Put — looking  keenly 
around. 


242  Roast  Turkey. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  suspiciously,  wonder- 
ing if  there  was  one  of  the  number  who  would  carry 
to  the  sophs. 

To  Frank's  surprise  he  saw  that  Walter  Gordon 
was  there.  Jack  Diamond  was  also  present. 

Frank  found  an  opportunity  to  get  close  to  Dismal 
and  whisper  in  his  ear : 

"Great  Caesar,  old  man !  why  did  you  invite  Gordon 
here?" 

"I  did  not." 

"Then  how  does  he  happen  to  be  here?  He  didn't 
come  without  an  invitation,  I  am  sure  of  that." 

"He  was  in  Billy's  when  I  asked  Put  to  come  up. 
I  knew  you  would  like  to  have  Put  here." 

"That's  all  right." 

"Well,  Put  asked  Gordon  to  come  along  before  I 
could  prevent  it.  Of  course  I  didn't  have  the  crust  to 
make  any  objection  after  that." 

"I  should  say  not!  It's  ail  right,  but  you  want  to 
remember  that  the  sophs  found  out  something  was 
going  on.  Did  Gordon  come  right  along  with  you?" 

"No.  He  said  he'd  have  to  go  to  his  room,  but  he 
showed  up  a  few  minutes  after  we  arrived  here." 

"Lots  of  mischief  can  be  done  in  a  few  minutes. 
Did  he  know  just  what  was  going  on  here?" 

"Well,  he  knew  somebody  had  gone  out  into  the 
country  to  swipe  something  for  a  feast." 


Roast  Turkey.  243 

"And  it  is  pretty  plain  that  the  sophs  became  aware 
of  the  same  fact.  Here  is  food  for  reflection,  Dismal." 

"You  are  right." 

The  foragers  told  of  their  adventures  in  capturing 
the  turkey,  and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  laughter  over 
it.  Merriwell  showed  how  near  he  came  to  getting 
shot,  and  it  was  universally  agreed  that  he  was  remark- 
ably lucky. 

Harry  told  how  he  had  bowled  the  old  farmer  over 
just  as  the  man  was  about  to  shoot  at  Frank,  and  then 
he  convulsed  them  with  laughter  by  relating  the  cap- 
ture of  the  gun  and  the  chase  he  had  led  the  hayseed. 

Robinson  said  he  thought  Harry  was  crazy  when 
he  rushed  after  the  farmer  in  the  way  he  did. 

"I  couldn't  understand  what  sort  of  a  game  he  was 
up  to,"  said  Bandy,  "and  I  didn't  feel  like  following 
him  into  the  jaws  of  the  lion,  so  I  held  aloof.  I  saw 
him  fling  his  club  at  the  old  duffer  and  saw  it  knock 
him  down.  Then,  when  I  was  sure  Harry  was  all 
right,  I  legged  it." 

"Farmer  Baldwin's  dog  will  have  a  sore  head  in  the 
morning,"  smiled  Frank.  "The  last  crack  I  gave  him 
stretched  him  quivering  on  the  ground.  Hope  it  didn't 
kill  the  brute." 

"Hope  it  didn't?"  shouted  Little.     "I  hope  it  did!" 

"But  I  don't  want  to  pay  for  his  old  dog." 

"Pay  for  it !     Are  you  dopy,  daft,  or  what's  the  mat- 


244  Roast  Turkey. 

ter  with  you?  Why,  that  man  had  a  spring  gun  set, 
and  it  would  have  filled  you  full  of  shot  if  you  hadn't 
tripped !" 

"He  had  a  right  to  set  a  spring  gun  in  his  own 
shed  to  protect  his  turkey  roost  from  marauders." 

The  boys  stared  at  Frank  in  amazement. 

"Say,  Merriwell,"  said  Uncle  Blossom,  gravely, 
"you're  an  enigma.  Great  poker !  The  idea  of  calling 
us  marauders !" 

"What  else  were  we?" 

"Boys,  it  is  our  duty  to  take  him  out  and  hold  hirr 
under  the  hose !" 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Jack  Diamond,  who  was  present, 
"you  will  have  a  real  lively  time  if  you  try  to  do  it. 
I  fully  agree  with  Mr.  Merriwell  that  the  farmer  had  a 
right  to  protect  his  property." 

"Whe-e-ew!"  whistled  several  lads,  and  then  they 
.all  cried  together:  "Goodness,  how  the  wind  blows!" 

The  boys  had  come  to  understand  in  a  measure 
Diamond's  chivalric  nature  and  sentiments,  and  it  did 
not  seem  strange  that  he  should  see  something  improper 
in  stealing  turkeys  from  a  farmer;  but  it  did  appear 
rather  remarkable  that  Merriwell  should  maintain  such 
an  idea  after  he  had  taken  a  hand  in  the  game. 

"It  must  be  that  you  chaps  intend  to  become  parsons 
after  you  leave  college,"  said  Walter  Gordon,  rather 
•derisively. 


Roast  Turkey.  245 

"And  Merriwell  would  pay  for  the  dog  if  he  killed 
tfie  beast!"  exclaimed  Uncle  Blossom.  "How  about 
the  turkey?  I  should  have  thought  you'd  paid  for 
that." 

"I  did." 

"What!" 

That  word  was  a  roar,  and  it  seemed  to  leap  from 
the  lips  of  every  lad  in  the  room,  with  the  exception  of 
Diamond  and  Merriwell.  The  boys  were  all  on  their 
feet,  and  they  stared  at  Frank  with  bulging  eyes,  as 
if  they  beheld  a  great  curiosity. 

Merriwell  simply  smiled.  He  was  quite  cool  and 
unruffled. 

"You — you  paid — for — the — turkey!"  gasped  Lucy 
Little,  as  if  it  cost  him  a  mighty  effort  to  get  the  words 
out. 

"Exactly,"  bowed  Frank. 

"How?     When?     Where?" 

I  pinned  a  five-dollar  bill  to  the  roost  before  I  laid 
violent  hands  on  the  old  gobbler.  Baldwin  will  find 
:t  there  in  the  morning." 

"Water !"  panted  Robinson  as  he  flopped  down  on  a 
chair.  "I  think  I  am  going  to  faint !" 

"Oh,  think  of  the  beautiful  beers  that  V  would  have 
paid  for!"  sighed  Robinson,  with  a  doleful  shake  of 
his  head. 

"This  is  a  disgrace  on  the  famous  class  of  'Umpty- 


vi 


246  Roast  Turkey. 

eight  I"  shouted  Lewis  Little.     "We  can  never  wipe  it 
out!" 

"I  fear  not,"  said  Easy  Street.     "It  is  really  awful !" 

"And  to  think  M  err i well  should  have  done  it  It 
would  have  served  him  right  if  that  spring  gun  had 
rilled  him  with  shot!" 

"Excuse  these  few  tears!"  exclaimed  Blossom,  who 
had  secretly  opened  a  bottle  of  beer  and  saturated  his 
Handkerchief  with  the  contents. 

He  now  proceeded  to  wring  the  handkerchief  in  a 
highly  dramatic  manner. 

"Go  ahead,"  laughed  Frank.  "Have  all  the  sport 
you  like  over  it,  but  I  feel  easy  in  my  mind." 

Some  one  proposed  not  to  eat  the  turkey  at  all,  but 
there  was  a  dissenting  shout  at  that  Then  the  bird 
was  taken  down  into  the  cellar  by  three  of  them  and 
stripped  of  its  feathers.  A  pan  and  necessary  dishes 
had  been  borrowed  of  Mrs.  Harrington,  and  there  was 
a  roaring  hard-wood  fire  in  the  open  grate. 

Harry  officiated  as  cook,  and  set  about  his  duties  in 
a  manner  that  showed  he  was  not  a  novice,  while  the    ; 
other  lads  looked  on  with  great  interest,  telling  stories 
and  cracking  jokes. 

Merriwell  offered  to  bet  Robinson  that  woman  was 
created  before  man,  but  Bandy  was  shy,  scenting  a  sell. 
However,  Frank  kept  at  him,  finally  offering  to  let 


Roast  Turkey.  247 

Robinson  himself  decide.  At  length  Robinson  "bit," 
and  a  small  wager  was  made. 

"Now,"  cried  Bandy,  "go  ahead  and  prove  that 
woman  was  made  before  man.  You  can't  do  it." 

"That's  dead  easy,"  smiled  Frank.  "I  know  you 
will  readily  acknowledge  that  Eve  was  the  first  maid." 

"No,  I'll  be  hanged  if " 

Then  Robinson  stopped  short,  for  he  saw  the  point, 
and  the  others  were  laughing  heartily  and  applauding. 

"The  first  maid!"  he  muttered.  "Oh,  thunder! 
What  a  soft  thing  I  am !  You  have  won,  Merriwell." 

The  turkey  began  to  give  out  a  most  delicious  odor, 
and  the  boys  snuffed  the  air  with  the  keenest  delight. 
How  hungry  they  were!  How  jolly  everything 
seemed !  There  was  not  one  of  the  party  who  did  not 
feel  very  grateful  to  think  he  was  living  that  night. 

At  last  the  turkey  was  done.  Harry  pronounced  it 
done,  and  it  was  certainly  browned  and  basted  in  beau- 
tiful style.  It  was  a  monster,  but  there  would  be  none 
too  much  for  that  famished  crowd. 

Frank  and  Blossom  assisted  Harry  in  serving. 
There  were  not  enough  plates  for  all,  but  that  did  not 
matter.  They  managed  to  get  along  all  right.  Some 
were  forced  to  drink  their  beer  out  of  the  bottle,  but 
nobody  murmured. 

The  turkey  was  white  and  tender,  and  it  was  cer- 
tainly very  well  cooked.  It  had  a  most  delicious  flavor. 


248  Roast  Turkey. 

And  how  good  the  beer  was  with  it !  How  those  fel- 
lows jollied  Merriwell  because  he  would  not  even  taste 
the  beer.  And  still  they  secretly  admired  him  for  it. 
He  had  the  nerve  to  say  no  and  stick  to  it,  which  they 
could  not  help  admiring. 

When  the  turkey  was  all  gone  cigars  were  passed, 
and  nearly  every  one  "fired  up."  Then  Harry  and 
Frank  got  out  a  banjo  and  mandolin  and  gave  the  party 
some  lively  music.  It  was  long  after  two  o'clock,  but 
who  cared  for  that  ?  Nobody  thought  of  the  hour.  If 
Mrs.  Harrington  complained  in  the  morning,  she  must 
be  pacified  with  a  peace  offering. 

They  sang  "Old  Man  Moses/'  "Solomon  Levi," 
"Bingo,"  and  a  dozen  more.  There  were  some  fine 
voices  among  them.  Finally  a  quartet  was  formed, 
consisting  of  Merriwell,  Rattleton,  Diamond  and  Blos- 
som. It  positively  was  a  treat  to  hear  them  sing 
"Good-by,  My  Little  Lady." 

"The  boats  are  pushing  from  the  shore, 

Good-by,  my  little  lady ! 
With  brawny  arm  and  trusty  oar, 

Each  man  is  up  and  ready; 
I  see  our  colors  dancing 
Where  sunlit  waves  are  glancing; 
A  fond  adieu  I'll  say  to  you, 
My  lady  true  and  fair. 

"Good-by,  good-by,  my  lady  sweet! 

Good-by,  my  little  lady! 
Good-by,  good-by,  again  we'll  meet, 
So  here's  farewell,  my  lady!" 


Roast  Turkey.  249 

Oh,  those  old  college  songs !  How  they  linger  in  the 
memory !  How  the  sound  of  them  in  after  years  stirs 
the  blood  and  quickens  the  pulse !  And  never  can  other 
songs  seem  half  so  beautiful  as  those  I 

It  was  after  two  when  the  party  broke  up,  but  it 
was  a  night  long  to  be  remembered. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A   SURPRISE   FOR   FRANK. 

On  the  following  morning  Merriwell  arose  with  a 
headache. 

"The  smoke  was  too  much  for  me  last  night,"  he 
said.  "It  was  thick  enough  to  chop  in  this  room." 

"And  you  don't  know  how  I  wanted  to  have  a  whiff 
with  the  fellows,"  said  Harry,  dolefully.  "It  was 
awful  to  see  them  enjoying  cigars  and  cigarettes  and 
not  touch  one  myself!" 

"But  you  didn't,"  smiled  Frank.  "Good  boy!  Stick 
to  that  just  as  long  as  you  wish  to  keep  a  place  in  ath- 
letics." 

"I  don't  know  which  is  the  worst,  smoking  or  mid- 
night suppers." 

"Midnight  suppers  are  bad  things,  and  you  will  ob- 
serve that  I  seldom  indulge  in  them.  If  I  was  on  one 
of  the  regular  teams  I  could  not  indulge  at  all.  I'll  not 
have  any  part  in  another  affair  like  that  of  last  night 
till  after  the  race.  From  now  till  it  is  over  I  am  going 
to  live  right." 

"Well,  I'll  do  my  best  to  stick  with  you.  If  you  see 
me  up  to  anything  improper,  just  call  me  down." 


A  Surprise  for  Frank.  251 

"Agreed." 

There  was  no  time  for  a  cold  bath  before  chapel,  al- 
though Frank  would  have  given  something  to  indulge 
in  one.  As  it  was,  he  dipped  his  head  in  cold  water, 
opened  the  window  wide,  and  filled  his  lungs  with  fresh 
air,  then  hustled  into  his  clothes  and  rushed  away,  with 
the  chapel  bell  clanging  and  his  temples  still  throbbing. 

The  whole  forenoon  was  a  drag,  but  he  managed  to 
get  through  the  recitations  fairly  well.  Over  and  over 
he  promised  himself  that  he  would  not  indulge  in  an- 
other midnight  feast  until  the  time  came  when  such 
dissipation  was  not  likely  to  do  him  any  particular 
harm  physically. 

At  noon  as  he  was  crossing  the  campus  he  was  as- 
tonished to  see  Paul  Pierson,  a  junior  and  the  man- 
ager of  the  regular  ball  team,  stop  and  bow.  Unless 
it  was  Pierson  who  had  pursued  him  on  the  previous 
night,  Frank  had  never  spoken  a  word  to  the  fellow  in 
his  life.  And  this  public  recognition  of  a  freshman 
on  the  campus  by  a  man  like  Pierson  was  almost  unpre- 
cedented. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Merriwell,  I  would  like  to  speak  with 
you,"  said  Pierson  in  a  manner  that  was  not  exactly 
unfriendly. 

Frank  remembered  that  the  fellow  who  chased  him 
the  night  before  had  promised  to  see  him  again,  but 
he  had  thought  at  the  time  that  the  man  did  not  mean 


252  A  Surprise  for  Frank. 

v  :t.    Now  he  wondered  what  in  the  world  Pierson  could 
A'ant. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Merriwell,  stopping  and  bowing  re- 
spectfully. 

"I  understand  that  you  are  something  of  a  sprinter," 
said  Pierson  as  he  surveyed  the  freshman  critically. 
"A — ah — friend  of  mine  told  me  so." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  but  I  believe  I  can  run  fairly 
well,"  replied  Frank,  with  an  air  of  modesty. 

"My  friend  is  a  very  good  judge  of  runners,  and  he 
says  you're  all  right.  In  doing  so  he  settled  a  point 
in  my  mind.  I  have  been  watching  your  ball  playing 
4n  practice  this  fall,  and  I  have  arrived  at  the  conclu- 
sion that  you  have  good  stuff  in  you  if  you  do  not  get 
the  swelled  head.  Young  man,  the  swelled  head  is  one 
of  the  worst  things  with  which  a  youth  can  be  afflicted. 
When  he  gets  it  for  fair  it  is  likely  to  be  his  ruin." 

Pierson  addressed  Frank  as  if  he  were  a  father 
speaking  to  a  boy.  Frank  felt  that  the  junior  was  pat- 
ronizing to  a  certain  extent,  but  the  fellow's  manner  of 
stopping  him  on  the  campus  was  so  remarkable  that  it 
more  than  overbalanced  his  air  of  superiority. 

Wondering  what  Pierson  could  be  driving  at,  Frank 
kept  silent  and  listened. 

"Now,  I  have  a  fancy,"  said  the  baseball  magnate, 
"that  you  are  rather  level  headed.  Still,  the  best  of 


A  Surprise  for  Frank.  253 

them  get  it  sometimes,  and  that  is  why  I  am  warning 
you." 

Pierson  spoke  deliberately,  still  looking  hard  at  the 
ireshman,  who  waited  quietly. 

"He'll  come  to  the  point  if  he  is  given  time,"  thought 
Frank. 

"I  have  seen  you  pitch,"  said  Pierson,  "and  I  have 
watched  your  delivery  and  your  curves.  You  are  very 
good.  More  than  that,  you  bat  properly  and  your 
judgment  is  excellent." 

He  paused  again,  as  if  to  note  what  impression  this 
praise  made  upon  the  other.  Frank  felt  his  cheeks 
grow  warm,  but  his  voice  was  perfectly  steady  as  he 
said: 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"I  did  not  know  just  what  you  would  do  when  it 
came  to  running  till  my  friend  saw  you  run,"  Pierson 
went  on.  "He  says  you  are  all  right.  Now,  if  you 
will  look  out  for  yourself  and  keep  yourself  in  condi- 
tion, it  is  quite  possible  that  you  may  be  given  a  trial  on 
the  regular  ball  team  in  the  spring." 

Frank  felt  his  heart  give  a  great  jump.  On  the 
regular  team!  Why,  he  had  not  dreamed  of  getting 
there  the  very  first  season.  Was  Pierson  giving  him 
a  jolly  ? 

"Are  you  serious,  sir  ?"  he  asked. 


254  A  Surprise  for  Frank. 

"Most  certainly,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  answered  the 
junior.  "I  can  assure  you  that  you  stand  an  excellent 
chance  of  having  a  trial.  What  the  result  of  the  trial 
is  will  depend  entirely  upon  yourself." 

"What  position,  Mr.  Pierson?" 

"Well,  there  is  but  one  position  that  is  not  well  filled. 
We've  got  men  to  burn  for  every  other  place.  If  you 
are  tried  at  all,  it  will  be  in  the  box.  Heffiner  is  the 
only  man  we  have,  and  he  can't  do  all  the  work.  There 
will  come  times  when  he  will  be  out  of  condition." 

To  pitch  on  the  regular  ball  team !  To  be  given  an 
opportunity  when  the  great  Heffiner  proved  out  of  con- 
dition! That  was  glory  indeed.  No  wonder  Frank 
Merriwell  tingled  with  excitement  in  every  part  of  his 
body ;  but  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  appeared  so  cool  and 
self  contained. 

Pierson  was  surprised  by  the  freshman's  manner, 
for  he  had  expected  Frank  to  show  excitement  and  de- 
light. 

"What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  this  ?"  he  thought.  "Does 
he  really  understand  me,  or  is  he  a  little  thick?" 

Then  he  saw  by  Frank's  fine  and  highly  sensitive  face 
that  he  could  not  be  thick,  and  he  began  to  perceive 
that  the  freshman  had  nerve.  That  was  one  of  the 
great  requirements  for  a  successful  pitcher. 


A  Surprise  for  Frank.  255 

"I  have  spoken  of  this  to  you,  Mr.  Merriwell,  so  you 
may  be  keeping  yourself  in  condition  through  the  win- 
ter, as  you  will  then  stand  all  the  better  show  of  mak- 
ing a  favorable  impression  when  you  are  given  a  trial." 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"If  I  were  in  your  place  I  would  not  make  any  talk 
about  it,  for  something  may  happen  that  you  will  not 
be  given  a  trial,  in  which  case  it  would  be  very  humili- 
ating if  you  had  publicly  stated  that  you  were  to  have  a 
show." 

"You  may  be  sure  I  will  say  nothing  about  it,  Mr- 
Pierson." 

"That  is  all    Good-day,  sir." 

"Good-day,  sir." 

Pierson  passed  on,  quite  aware  that  a  number  of 
students  were  regarding  him  with  the  utmost  amaze- 
ment, plainly  wondering  that  he  should  have  stopped  to 
talk  with  a  freshman  on  the  campus. 

Walter  Gordon  had  seen  the  two  speaking  together, 
and  he  hastened  to  call  the  attention  of  some  friends 
to  it. 

"Look  there!"  he  cried.  "As  I  live,  Merriwell  is 
talking  with  Pierson!  What'll  you  bet  the  fellow's 
not  making  a  try  to  get  on  the  regular  ball  team  ?  Ha ! 
ha!  ha!  He's  got  crust  enough  for  it." 


2^6  A  Surprise  for  Frank. 

"And  I  am  not  sure  he  hasn't  the  ability  for  it,"  said 
Easy  Street. 

"Oh,  rats !"  snapped  Walter.  "He'd  go  to  pieces  in 
the  first  inning.  He'll  never  make  a  pitcher  in  his 
ife." 

"There  are  others,"  murmured  Lucy  Little. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE     YALE     SPIRIT. 

Frank  went  to  his  room  with  his  head  in  a  whirl. 
He  had  dreamed  of  working  hard  to  secure  a  place  on 
the  freshman  team,  but  he  had  not  dreamed  there  was 
a  possibility  that  he  would  be  given  a  trial  in  the  regu- 
lar Yale  nine  during  his  first  year  in  college. 

Merriwell  knew  well  enough  that  Phillips  men  were 
given  the  preference  in  everything  at  Yale  as  a  rule, 
for  they  "had  friends  to  pull  them  through,  while  the 
fellows  who  had  been  prepared  by  private  tutors  lacked 
such  an  Advantage. 

But  Frank  had  likewise  discovered  that  in  most 
cases  a  man  was  judged  fairly  at  Yale,  and  he  could 
become  whatever  he  chose  to  make  himself,  in  case  he 
had  the  ability. 

The  Phillips  man  might  have  the  advantage  at  the 
start,  but  he  could  not  hold  the  advantage  unless  he 
proved  himself  worthy.  If  the  unknown  student  had 
nerve  and  determination  he  could  win  his  way  for  all 
of  the  wire  pulling  of  the  friends  of  some  rival  who 
was  not  so  capable. 

Frank  had  heard  the  cry  which  had  been  raised  at 


258  The  Yale  Spirit. 

that  time  that  the  old  spirit  of  democracy  was  dying 
out  at  Yale,  and  that  great  changes  had  taken  place 
there.  He  had  heard  that  Yale  was  getting  to  be 
more  like  another  college,  where  the  swell  set  are 
strongly  in  evidence  and  the  senior  likely  to  be  very  ex- 
clusive, having  but  a  small  circle  of  speaking  acquaint- 
ances. 

It  was  said  that  in  the  old  days  the  Yale  junior  or 
senior  knew  everybody  worth  knowing.  But  this  had 
changed.  The  blue-blooded  aristocrat  had  appeared 
at  Yale,  and  he  had  chosen  his  circle  of  acquaintances 
with  great  care.  To  all  outward  appearances,  this 
man  believed  that  outside  his  limited  circle  there  was 
nobody  at  Yale  worth  knowing. 

Professor  Scotch,  Frank's  guardian,  had  read  this  in 
certain  newspaper  articles  relating  to  Yale,  and  had  ex- 
pressed his  regret  that  such  should  be  the  case. 

After  coming  to  Yale  Frank  kept  his  eyes  open  to 
see  to  what  extent  such  a  state  of  affairs  obtained.  At 
first  it  had  seemed  that  the  newspapers  were  right,  but 
he  came  to  see  that  his  position  as  freshman  did  not 
give  him  the  proper  opportunity  to  judge. 

In  the  course  of  time  Frank  came  to  believe  that  the 
old  spirit  was  still  powerful  at  Yale.  There  were  a 
limited  number  of  young  gentlemen  who  plainly  con- 
sidered themselves  superior  beings,  and  who  positively 
refused  to  make  acquaintances  outside  a  certain  limit; 


The  Yale  Spirit.  259 

but  those  men  held  no  positions  in  athletics,  were  sel- 
dom of  prominence  in  the  societies,  and  were  regarded 
as  cads  by  the  men  most  worth  knowing.  They  were 
to  be  pitied,  not  envied. 

At  Yale  the  old  democratic  spirit  still  prevailed. 
The  young  men  were  drawn  from  different  social  con- 
ditions, and  in  their  homes  they  kept  to  their  own  set; 
but  they  seemed  to  leave  this  aside,  and  they  mingled 
and  submerged  their  natural  differences  under  that  one 
broad  generalization,  "the  Yale  man." 

And  Merriwell  was  to  find  that  this  extended  even  to 
their  social  life,  their  dances,  their  secret  societies, 
where  all  who  showed  themselves  to  have  the  proper 
dispositions  and  qualifications  were  admitted  without 
distinction  of  previous  condition  or  rank  in  their  own 
homes. 

Each  class  associated  with  itself,  it  is  true,  the  mem- 
bers making  no  close  friendships  with  members  of 
other  classes,  with  the  possible  exception  of  the  juniors 
and  seniors,  where  class  feeling  did  not  seem  to  run  so 
high.  A  man  might  know  men  of  other  classes,  but 
he  never  took  them  for  chums. 

The  democratic  spirit  at  Yale  came  mainly  from  ath- 
letics, as  Frank  soon  discovered.  Every  class  had  half 
a  dozen  teams — tennis,  baseball,  football,  the  crew  and 
so  on.  Everybody,  even  the  "greasy"  grinds,  seemed 


26o  The  Yale  Spirit. 

interested  in  the  something,  and  so  one  or  more  of  thes* 
organization  had  some  sort  of  a  claim  on  everybody. 

Besides  this,  there  was  the  general  work  in  the  gym- 
nasium, almost  every  member  of  every  class  appearing 
there  at  some  time  or  other,  taking  exercise  as  a  pas- 
time or  a  necessity. 

The  'Varsity  athletic  organization  drew  men  from 
every  class,  not  excepting  the  professional  and  gradu- 
ate schools,  and,  counting  the  trials  and  everything, 
brought  together  hundreds  of  men. 

In  athletics  strength  and  skill  win,  regardless  of 
money  or  family;  so  it  happened  that  the  poorest  man 
in  the  university  stood  a  show  of  becoming  the  lion  and 
idol  of  the  whole  body  of  young  men. 

Compulsory  chapel  every  morning  brought  together 
the  entire  college,  and  had  its  effect  in  making  every- 
body acquainted  with  everybody  else. 

A  great  fosterer  of  the  democratic  spirit  was  the  old 
Yale  fence,  over  the  departure  of  which  "old  grads" 
are  forever  shedding  bitter  tears.  The  student  who 
had  not  known  the  old  fence  was  inclined  to  smile 
wearily  over  the  expressions  of  regret  at  its  loss,  but 
still  the  "old  grad"  continued  to  insist  that  the  fence 
was  one  of  the  crowning  beauties  of  Yale,  and  that 
nothing  can  ever  replace  it. 

On  the  old  fence  men  read  the  newspapers,  crammed 
for  recitation,  gossiped,  told  stories,  talked  athletics, 


The  Yale  Spirit.  261 

«ung  songs,  flirted  with  passing  girls,  and  got  ac- 
quainted. Oh,  yes,  it  was  a  great  fosterer  of  the  demo- 
cratic spirit. 

In  the  promotion  of  this  spirit  the  drinking  places 
at  Yale  are  important  factors.  At  Harvard  the  men 
drink  in  their  clubs,  the  most  of  which  are  very  expen- 
sive places,  and  in  the  Boston  cafes.  The  Yale  men 
drink  at  Morey's,  and  Traeger's,  and  Billy's.  Trae- 
ger's,  where  from  a  score  to  fifty  students  may  be  seen 
any  afternoon  or  evening,  is  furnished  in  exact  imita- 
tion of  German  students'  drinking  places.  In  the  back 
room  is  heavy  furniture,  quaint  paintings,  and  wood- 
work and  carvings.  It  had  a  sort  of  subdued  cathe- 
dral light,  which  fell  softly  on  the  mugs  which  deco- 
rated the  shelves  and  mantel. 

Frank  had  proven  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  a 
man  to  drink  at  Yale  in  order  to  be  esteemed  as  a  good 
fellow.  Frank  was  a  total  abstainer,  and  his  friends 
had  found  that  nothing  would  induce  him  to  drink  or 
smoke.  At  first  they  ridiculed  him,  but  they  came  to 
secretly  admire  him,  and  it  is  certain  that  his  example 
was  productive  of  no  small  amount  of  good. 

Frank's  acquaintances  declared  he  had  a  mighty 
nerve,  for  he  was  able  to  travel  with  a  crowd  that  drank 
and  smoked,  and  still  refrained  from  doing  either. 
That  was  something  difficult  for  them  to  understand. 

It  was  apparent  to  everybody  that  Merriwell's  popu- 


262  The  Yale  Spirit. 

larity  did  not  depend  on  his  ability  to  absorb  beer  or 
his  generosity  in  opening  fizz.  It  came  from  his  ster- 
ling qualities,  his  ability  as  an  athlete,  his  natural  mag- 
netism, and  his  genial,  sunny  nature.  Although  he 
was  refined  and  gentlemanly,  there  was  not  the  least 
suggestion  of  anything  soft  or  effeminate  about  him. 

It  is  not  strange  that  Merriwell  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve it  possible  that  Paul  Pierson  had  been  in  earnest. 
Such  a  thing  seemed  altogether  too  good  to  be  true. 

"If  it's  a  jolly,  he'll  not  have  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  I  spread  it,"  Frank  decided.  "Mum  is 
the  word  with  me,  and  I'll  keep  right  on  working  for 
a  place  with  the  freshmen.  Oh,  if  we  can  win  the  race 
at  Saltonstall !" 

Frank  knew  that  he  stood  well  with  Old  Put,  who 
was  to  manage  the  freshman  team  in  the  spring.  If 
the  freshman  crew  could  defeat  the  sophs,  Put  would 
have  more  confidence  than  ever  in  Merriwell. 

Frank  was  thinking  these  things  over,  when  Harry 
came  in  with  a  rush,  slamming  the  door  and  tripping 
over  a  rug  in  his  haste. 

"Say!  say!  say!"  he  spluttered,  staring  at  Frank. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"Is  it  true?" 

"Is  what  true?" 

"I  heard  Paul  Pierson  was  seen  talking  to  you  on 
the  campus." 


The  Yale  Spirit.  263 

"Well,  what  of  that?" 

"Then  it  is  true?" 

"Yes." 

"Gracious !  Pierson  was  never  known  to  thing  a  do 
>— er — do  a  thing  like  that  before!" 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Is  it  so!  Why,  you  know  it  is  so!  Think  of 
Pierson — the  great  and  only  Pierson — talking  to  a 
freshman  on  the  campus  in  the  middle  of  the  day! 
Wow!" 

"You  are  excited,  Harry.     Sit  down  and  cool  off." 

"I'll  sit  down,  but  you  must  tell  me  what  he  was  say- 
ing to  you." 

"Must  I?" 

"Must  you?  I  should  say  yes!  I  am  dying  to 
know  what  he  could  be  saying  to  a  freshman !" 

Frank  was  troubled,  for  he  saw  his  roommate's  curi- 
osity was  aroused  to  the  highest  notch,  and  he  knew 
it  would  be  no  easy  thing  to  satisfy  Harry  without  tell- 
ing the  truth. 

"Go  ahead,"  urged  Rattleton.  "What  did  Pierson 
say  to  you  ?" 

"Oh,  he  said  a  number  of  things,"  replied  Frank, 
awkwardly. 

Harry  lifted  his  eyebrows. 

"Haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  he  returned ;  "but  what  are 
they?" 


264  The  Yale  Spirit. 

Frank  hesitated,  and  a  cloud  came  to  his  friend's 
face. 

"You  see,  it  is  a  private  matter,"  Merriwell  ex- 
plained. 

"Oh!" 

There  was  infinite  sarcasm  in  that  ejaculation. 

"You  know  I  would  tell  you  if  I  could,  Harry,"  said 
Frank,  rising;  "but  this  is  a  matter  which  I " 

"Oh,  you  needn't  trouble  yourself !"  Rattleton  cut  in, 
sharply.  "I'll  live  just  as  long  and  be  just  as  happy." 

"Now  don't  be  angry,  old  man ;  that  is  foolish.  You 
know  I  would  tell  you  if  I  could  do  so  without " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that!  You  are  getting  so 
you  have  secrets  lately,  and  you  don't  seem  to  trust  me. 
Say,  if  you  think  I  am  a  sneak  and  a  tattler,  say  so,  for 
I  want  to  know  it.  I  don't  care  to  room  with  any  fel- 
low who  doesn't  trust  me." 

Harry  was  angry,  and  Frank  felt  very  sorry. 

"Old  man,"  said  Merriwell,  meeting  Rattleton's  sul- 
len glance  with  a  frank,  open  look,  "I  do  trust  you, 
and  you  should  know  it.  There  is  no  fellow  in  college 
I  would  as  soon  room  with.  Still,  you  should  know 
there  are  some  things  a  man  cannot  honorably  tell  even 
his  chum. 

Harry  was  silent. 

"Perhaps  there  are  some  things  about  yourself  or 
some  friend  that  you  would  not  care  to  tell  me,"  Frank 


The  Yale  Spirit  265 

went  on.  "I  am  not  going  to  be  offended  at  that.  It 
is  your  right  to  tell  what  you  like  and  keep  what  you 
like  to  yourself.  A  thing  like  that  should  not  create 
feeling  between  us." 

"But  this  seems  different." 

"Does  it?  Well,  I  will  explain  that  I  told  Pierson  I 
would  say  nothing  of  the  matter  to  anybody.  I  do 
not  believe  in  lying.  Do  you  want  me  to  break  my 
word  in  this  case?" 

"No!"  cried  Harry.  "You  are  all  right  again, 
Frank!  You  are  always  right!  Don't  you  mind  me 
when  I  get  cranky.  I'm  a  fundering  thool — I  mean  a 
thundering  fool !  But  I  do  hope  Pierson  is  not  work- 
ing a  jolly  on  you." 

"He  may  have  tried  to  work  a  jolly  on  me,  but  he  is 
not  succeeding,"  smiled  Frank,  whose  face  had  cleared 
"And  the  quieter  I  keep  the  smaller  will  be  the  chance 
of  success,  if  that  is  his  little  game." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

GORDON  EXPRESSES  HIMSELF. 

At  the  first  opportunity  Frank  had  a  talk  with  Burn- 
ham  Putnam,  who  had  charge  of  the  freshman  crew. 
He  told  Put  all  that  had  been  learned  about  the  traitor, 
and  Burn  listened  with  interest  and  growing  anger. 

"Who  do  you  think  the  traitor  is  ?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Well,  there  is  a  doubt  in  my  mind,  and  I  do  not 
want  to  accuse  anybody." 

"We  have  conducted  our  work  with  great  secrecy." 

"We  have  that." 

"And  I  have  repeatedly  cautioned  the  men  about 
talking." 

"Yes." 

"I  have  warned  them  that  it  might  mean  the  ruin  of 
our  plans." 

"You  have/' 

"And  still  everything  we  have  done  seems  to  be 
known." 

"That's  right." 

"The  man  who  has  spread  this  matter  has  the  very 
best  means  for  obtaining  information,  as  he  has  made 
no  mistake." 


Gordon  Expresses  Himself.          267 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?" 

"The  traitor  may  be  the  last  man  we  would  suspect 
He  must  have  some  cause  for  playing  crooked,  though." 

"That  is  the  way  I  regarded  it." 

Old  Put  thought  the  matter  over  for  a  few  moments. 
He  finally  said : 

"I  don't  want  to  do  any  man  injustice,  but  the  turn 
affairs  have  taken  leads  me  to  think  it  would  be  a  good 
plan  to  drop  our  spare  men  entirely  and  put  full  de- 
pendence on  a  settled  crew." 

Frank  was  silent,  and  so  Putnam  asked: 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"I  think  it  is  a  very  good  plan,  and  I  approve  of  it." 

"Then  it  is  settled.  They  shall  be  dropped  at  once, 
although  it  seems  that  the  mischief  is  done  now." 

"There  may  be  no  mischief  in  it,  for  the  sophs  ridi- 
cule the  innovations  introduced,  and  they  are  surer 
than  ever  that  they  will  have  a  soft  thing  of  it. 

"They  have  been  fooled  several  times  this  fall.  I  am 
sorry  we  shall  not  be  able  to  spring  our  innovations  as 
a  surprise,  but  we  may  give  them  a  warm  time  just  the 
same." 

That  day  Putnam  informed  the  spare  men  that  he 
did  not  think  they  would  be  needed  any  more  in  train- 
ing, but  asked  them  to  keep  in  condition  till  after  the 
race,  in  case  anything  might  happen  that  they  were 
wanted. 


268          Gordon  Expresses  Himself. 

Gordon  was  enraged  immediately,  for  he  had  held 
on  and  worked  through  everything  with  the  belief  that 
he  would  finally  be  given  a  place  on  the  crew. 

"So  I  am  dropped,  am  I?"  he  said,  bitterly.  "Well, 
I  rather  think  I  understand  how  it  comes  about." 

Putnam  did  not  like  this,  and  a  dark  look  came  to  his 
rugged  face. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  demanded,  sharply. 

"Never  mind,"  returned  Walter,  with  a  toss  of  his 
head.  "It's  no  use  to  talk  it  over,  but  I  know  a  few 
things." 

He  turned  as  if  he  would  go  away,  but  Put  put  out 
a  hand  and  stopped  him,  whirling  him  sharply  about. 

"See  here,"  said  the  sturdy  manager  of  the  freshman 
ball  team  and  crew,  "I  want  to  know  just  what  you 
mean,  Gordon." 

"Oh.  you  do?" 

Walter  flung  to  the  winds  all  hope  of  getting  on  the 
crew.  He  sneered  in  Putnam's  face. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do!  You  talk  as  if  you  had  not  been 
treated  right." 

"Have  I?" 

"I  think  you  have,  sir." 

"I  know  I  have  not !" 

Putnam  was  angry,  and  his  face  betrayed  it 

"You  must  prove  that,  Gordon!" 

"I  can/' 


Gordon  Expresses  Himself.          269 

"Do  so." 

"I  may  not  prove  it  to  your  satisfaction,  but  I  can 
prove  it  just  as  hard.  You  have  told  me  that  I  am  in 
fine  form,  and  I  know  that  you  have  said  I  have  as 
fine  back  and  shoulders  as  may  be  found  in  the  whole 
college." 

"I  did  say  that,"  calmly  acknowledged  Old  Put. 

"Well,  that  counts  for  something." 

"But  it  does  not  make  you  suitable  for  the  crew. 
There  is  something  more  needed,  as  you  should  know. 
You  must  be  able  to  row." 

"Is  there  a  man  on  the  crew  who  pulls  a  prettier 
stroke  than  I?  Just  answer  me  that,  Burn  Putnam ?" 

"You  do  pull  a  pretty  stroke,  but  I  have  been  con- 
vinced that  the  men  on  the  crew  now  will  hold  out,  and 
it  is  not  best  to  take  you  in  place  of  any  of  them." 

"Who  convinced  you  ?  I  know !  It  was  Merriwell ! 
He  is  holding  Rattleton  on  the  crew  simply  because 
they  are  chums,  and  you  are  letting  him  twist  you 
around  his  finger !  Ha !  ha !  ha !" 

Gordon's  laugh  was  sarcastic  and  cutting  and  it 
brought  a  hot  flush  to  the  face  of  Old  Put. 

"You  are  insolent,  Gordon!"  he  said.  "This  is  an 
open  insult!" 

"Is  it?  Well,  I  notice  you  do  not  deny  that  Merri- 
well has  held  Rattleton  on  the  crew  in  my  place." 


270          Gordon  Expresses  Himself. 

"I  deny  that  he  has  held  any  one  on  the  crew  that  is 
not  fully  capable  of  remaining  there  on  his  own  merit." 

"That  sounds  first  rate!  Oh,  well,  I  don't  care, 
anyway !  Your  crew  is  bound  to  make  a  show  of  itself, 
and  it  will  be  beaten  hands  down  by  the  sophs." 

"So  that  is  the  opinion  you  hold,  is  it?" 

"It  is." 

"And  I  suppose  you  have  held  it  all  along?" 

"I  have." 

"Then  I  have  made  no  mistake  in  dropping  you 
from  the  crew.  You  have  quite  satisfied  me  on  that 
point,  Gordon.  No  man  is  suitable  to  hold  a  place  on 
any  kind  of  a  crew  or  team  if  he  holds  it  in  contempt 
and  has  no  confidence  in  it.  He  will  not  work,  and  his 
feeling  of  contempt  will  communicate  itself  to  others, 
thus  demoralizing  the  whole  lot  of  them.  Even  if  he 
kept  his  contempt  to  himself,  he  is  not  the  man  to  work 
his  heart  out  in  the  effort  to  win.  He  thinks  it  is  no 
use  to  kill  himself,  and  he  will  not  make  his  best  ef- 
fort at  any  time.  It  is  my  policy  to  drop  such  a  man, 
in  case  I  find  him  out,  and  drop  him  hard.  Yes,  I  am 
quite  satisfied,  Gordon." 

Walter  bit  his  tongue  to  keep  back  the  fierce  words 
which  arose  to  his  lips.  He  felt  himself  quivering  with 
anger. 

"All  right!  all  right!"  he  said,  his  voice  unsteady. 
"I  am  glad  you  are  satisfied !  But  wait  till  the  race  is 


Gordon  Expresses  Himself.          271 

over.  Rattleton's  glory  will  be  gone  then.  Don't 
think  that  he  will  pull  his  heart  out.  A  man  who 
smokes  as  much  as  he  does  can't  pull." 

"Smokes!  Rattleton  does  not  smoke  at  all.  I  ob- 
served him  at  the  turkey  roast.  He  absolutely  refused 
to  smoke." 

"Because  you  were  present;  but  I  know  for  a  fact 
that  he  smokes  behind  your  back,  and  he  smokes  almost 
constantly." 

"I  cannot  believe  it.     Merriwell  would  tell  me," 

"Would  he?  Ha!  ha!  ha!  You  don't  know  Frank 
Merriwell  yet,  but  you  will  find  him  out.  That  fellow 
will  go  to  any  extreme  to  injure  me,  and  so  it  is  not 
likely  he  would  tell  anything  on  his  chum  that  would 
cause  you  to  give  me  his  place." 

"I  am  sure  you  do  Merriwell  an  injustice.  He  is  a 
man  who  does  not  smoke  himself,  and  he  would  not  al- 
low his  roommate  to  injure  himself  smoking.  How- 
ever, I  will  find  out  about  this." 

"Do  so;  but  I  have  found  out  about  it  already.  I 
have  certain  means  of  obtaining  information." 

"So  have  the  sophs,  and  they  have  obtained  a  great 
deal,"  Putnam  shot  at  Walter  as  he  turned  away. 

Putnam  collared  Merriwell  at  the  first  opportunity 
and  demanded  to  know  the  truth  about  Rattleton's 
smoking. 


272          Gordon  Expresses  Himself. 

"I  know  you  will  tell  me  the  truth,  Merry,"  said 
Burnham,  "and  it  is  important  that  you  should." 

"Some  one  has  been  telling  you  he  is  smoking?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he  is  not  smoking  now.  I  had  a  talk  with 
him  and  he  swore  off.  He  is  not  touching  tobacco  in 
any  form,  and  I  give  you  my  word  on  that." 

"That's  all  I  want,"  said  Putnam,  quite  satisfied. 

After  this  the  freshman  crew  took  to  practicing 
nights,  and  it  was  said  that  they  worked  as  no  crew  of 
freshies  every  worked  before.  One  night  they  ran  up 
against  the  regular  'Varsity  crew,  and  gave  it  a  hot 
pull,  but  finally  seemed  to  be  beaten. 

The  report  of  this  brush  spread  abroad,  and  the  men 
on  the  regular  crew  were  rather  complimentary  toward 
the  freshmen.  They  said  the  youngsters  worked  to- 
gether in  a  most  surprising  way,  and  it  was  predicted 
that  they  would  give  their  rivals  a  hard  pull. 

The  sophs  were  inclined  to  regard  this  as  a  jolly,  and 
they  continued  confident  of  winning  over  the  freshmen 
with  the  greatest  ease. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   TRAITOR   DISCOVERED. 

"I  say,  Merry,"  said  Rattleton,  the  day  before  the 
race  was  to  come  off,  "you  can't  guess  who  Gordon  is 
chumming  with  lately." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  can.     Who  is  it?" 

"Ditson." 

"Get  out!" 

"That's  on  the  level" 

"But  Ditson  the  same  as  suggested  outright  that 
Gordon  was  the  traitor  who  had  told  the  sophs  so 
much." 

"That  is  true,  but  Gordon  doesn't  know  it" 

"Well,  he  ought  to.  What  do  you  think  Ditson  is 
doing?" 

"Oh,  he  is  working  Gordon,  who  has  been  drinking 
like  a  fish  since  Old  Put  dropped  him." 

Frank  was  troubled.  He  did  not  approve  of  Ditson, 
and  he  feared  that  Gordon  had  a  weak  nature,  so  that 
he  could  be  easily  influenced.  Walter  had  greatly 
taken  to  heart  being  dropped  by  Putnam,  and  he  seemed 
utterly  reckless  and  careless  about  himself.  If  he  did 


274  The  Traitor  Discovered. 

not  look  out,  he  was  almost  sure  to  get  into  trouble  and 
find  himself  "rusticated"  or  sent  home  for  good. 

Merriwell  could  not  help  thinking  it  possible  that 
Gordon  had  been  innocent  and  that  a  mistake  had  been 
made  in  dropping  him,  as  it  might  discourage  him  so 
that  he  would  go  to  the  bad.  This  worried  Frank  not 
a  little. 

"I'll  have  to  make  Ditson  call  a  halt,"  he  said  to 
Harry.  "He  must  be  told  to  let  up  on  Gordon." 

"Now,  that  is  dead  right,"  nodded  Harry,  who  was 
inclined  to  be  generous  and  kindly  toward  the  fellow 
•who  might  have  filled  his  place  on  the  freshman  crew. 
"I  tell  you  that  Ditson  is  a  bad  man,  and  I  would  not 
trust  him  as  far  as  I  can  fling  a  cow  by  the  tail." 

"I'll  get  after  him  at  the  first  opportunity,"  promised 
Frank. 

Harry  went  out  and  had  a  talk  with  Bandy  Robin- 
son about  the  matter.  Robinson  admitted  that  he  did 
not  have  much  use  for  either  Gordon  or  Ditson,  but 
he  was  inclined  to  think  Gordon  the  better  fellow  of 
the  two. 

That  night  Merriwell  and  Rattleton  retired  early, 
but  they  were  not  allowed  to  go  to  sleep.  Barely  were 
they  in  bed  before  there  was  a  knock  on  the  door,  and 
they  found  Robinson  and  one  of  the  fellows  who  lived 
in  the  house  were  there. 

"Say,"  said  Bandy,  "Ditson  and  Gordon  are  down 


The  Traitor  Discovered.  275 

at  Billy's,  and  Gordon  has  a  great  load  on.  I  have  told 
Ditson  to  let  him  alone,  but  was  advised  to  mind  my 
own  business.  Ditson  is  deliberately  getting  Gordon 
stiff." 

"Is  that  so?"  cried  Frank  as4ie  made  a  jump  for  his 
clothes.  "Well,  I  think  I  will  have  a  talk  with  Mr. 
Ditson." 

Frank  and  Harry  dressed  quickly,  and  away  they 
went  with  Robinson  and  his  companion  toward  Billy's. 

On  arriving  at  Billy's  they  were  told  that  Ditson  and 
Gordon  were  in  the  little  corner  behind  the  screen- 
Gordon  was  opening  champagne,  and  both  fellows  were 
pretty  well  intoxicated. 

Harry  slipped  up  behind  the  screen,  stood  on  a  chair, 
and  peered  over.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  Ditson  say : 

"That's  right,  Walter.  Merriwell  rubbed  dirt  all 
over  you.  He  is  trying  to  become  another  king,  like 
Browning,  but  you  can  bet  I  don't  lose  any  opportunity 
to  throw  him  down." 

"Throw  him  down!  throw  him  down!"  echoed  Gor- 
don, thickly.  "That's  right ;  but  you  can't  throw  him 
down  hard  enough  to  keep  him  down." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  declared  Roll,  with 
drunken  sobriety.  "If  we  were  to  work  together,  Gor- 
don, old  man,  we  could  hurt  him.  As  it  is,  you've 
helped  me  out  wonderfully  in  what  I've  done," 

"Havel?     How?" 


276  The  Traitor  Discovered. 

Harry  looked  around  and  saw  Merriwell  preparing 
to  go  into  the  corner  behind  the  screen.  Then  Rattle- 
ton  made  a  few  violent  gestures,  which  plainly  told  his 
roommate  to  refrain. 

Frank  looked  astonished.  What  could  Harry  be  up 
to  that  he  appeared  so  excited?  He  was  motioning 
for  Frank  to  come  forward  cautiously  and  join  him. 

Now,  Merriwell  did  not  believe  in  playing  the  eaves- 
dropper on  any  one,  but  he  fancied  Harry  saw  some- 
thing he  wished  to  show  him,  so  he  went  forward 
lightly,  placed  another  chair,  got  upon  it,  and  looked 
over  the  screen. 

In  the  meantime  Ditson  was  saying : 

"Yes,  you've  helped  me.  You  know  Merriwell  is 
coaching  the  freshman  crew — or  has  been — for  the  race 
to-morrow.  Well,  I  don't  let  any  chance  go  to  get  a 
jab  at  him." 

"I  don't  see  what  that  has  to  do  with  my  helping 
you,"  mumbled  Gordon,  vainly  trying  to  light  a  ciga- 
rette with  a  broken  match  on  which  no  brimstone  was 
left. 

"Course  yer  don't,"  laughed  Ditson,  who  was  almost 
as  full  as  his  companion.  "This  isn't  the  first  time  we 
have  been  out  together,  eh,  old  boy  ?" 

"No." 

"Only  we  had  to  be  quiet  about  it  when  you  were  on 
the  crew — or  when  you  thought  you  were  on  it." 


The  Traitor  Discovered.  277 

"That's  right." 

"We  have  been  pretty  full  once  or  twice/' 

"I  thought  so  when  we  got  up  the  next  morning." 

"Well,  you  have  told  me  lots  of  things  about  Merri- 
well  and  what  he  was  doing  with  the  crew.  You're  a 
great  talker  when  you're  loaded." 

Gordon  stiffened  up  a  bit  and  tried  to  give  his  com- 
panion a  sober  stare,  but  the  effort  was  a  ludicrous 
failure. 

"Wazzyer  mean?"  he  asked.  "  'Fi  told  you  any- 
thing it  was  in  strictest  confidence." 

"Cert;  but  then,  you  know,  anything  to  knife  Merri- 
well." 

Gordon  braced  off,  his  hands  on  the  table  before  him. 
Ditson  laughed  and  went  on : 

"Now,  if  we  make  a  combine  against  him  we  can  do 
him  bad." 

"Wazzyer  mean?"  Gordon  again  demanded.  "Mean 
that  you  repeated  anything  I  tol'  you  in  confidence 
when  I  was  full?" 

"Not  publicly,"  grinned  Ditson.  "I  may  have  used 
it  to  injure  Merriwell,  but  I  was  careful  how  I  used  it." 

Walter  thumped  the  table  with  his  fist,  growing  an- 
gry suddenly. 

"You're  a  hanged  two-faced  fraud!"  he  huskily 
cried.  "That's  jusht  what  you  are,  Ditson!  Some- 
body's been  telling  things  to  the  sophs.  They  found 


278  The  Traitor  Discovered. 

out  everything.  It  was  you!  And  you  pumped  your 
points  out  of  me  when  I  was  full." 

"That  didn't  hurt  you,"  Ditson  hastened  to  declare. 
"It  was  entirely  to  hurt  Merriwell,  and  he  is  our  com- 
mon enemy." 

"Don't  care  a  continental  if  he  is!"  cried  Walter. 
"I  don't  like  him,  but  you  have  hurt  me.  Bet  any- 
thing Merriwell  and  Old  Put  thought  I  had  blowed! 
I  didn't  have  any  confidence  in  Merriwell's  methods, 
but  I  didn't  blow  to  the  sophs!  Still  I  was  to  blame 
for  lettin'  you  get  me  full  and  pump  me.  And  the 
fellows  think  I'm  a  tattler!  Well,  I'll  be  hanged  if  I 
don't  even  up  with  you  by  hammering  the  face  off  you 
right  now!" 

Walter  stood  up  and  attempted  to  grasp  Ditson' s 
arm,  but  he  was  so  full  that  he  made  a  miscalculation 
and  caught  nothing  but  empty  air.  Then  he  struck 
across  the  table  at  Roll. 

"Oh,  you  would  hit  me,  would  you!"  grated  Ditson, 
who  saw  that  his  companion  was  much  the  drunker. 
"You  would  hammer  my  face!  Well,  perhaps  I'll  do 
some  hammering  myself!" 

Then  he  caught  up  an  empty  champagne  bottle  and 
swung  it  over  his  head  as  if  to  strike  Gordon. 

Like  a  flash  Merriwell's  hand  darted  down  over  the 
top  of  the  screen  and  snatched  the  bottle  from  Roll's 
grasp. 


The  Traitor  Discovered.  279 

A  moment  later  Frank  went  around  the  screen  and 
confronted  the  two  lads,  still  holding  the  bottle  in  his 
hand. 

"I  saved  you  from  having  a  cracked  head  that  time, 
Gordon,"  he  said  as  he  collared  Ditson.  "And  I  have 
found  out  who  the  traitor  is.  I  am  glad  you  are  not 
the  man.  As  for  this  thing" — he  gave  Ditson  a  shake 
that  caused  the  fellow's  teeth  to  click  together — "he 
has  shown  to-night  that  he  is  a  most  contemptible  cur ! 
I  hated  to  think  him  as  dirty  as  he  has  shown  him- 
self to  be." 

Frank's  face  was  full  of  unutterable  disgust  for  Dit- 
son. 

Other  freshmen  came  crowding  into  the  corner,  and 
Ditson  saw  himself  regarded  with  scorn  and  contempt 
by  everybody.  He  cowed  like  a  whipped  cur  and 
whined : 

"I  was  simply  fooling;  it  was  all  a  jolly.  I  never 
did  anything  of  the  sort.  I  was  simply  trying  to  get 
Gordon  on  the  string  by  telling  him  so." 

"Well,  you  got  yourself  on  a  string,  and  pretty  well 
tangled  up.  Gentlemen" — turning  to  the  freshmen 
present — "here  is  the  traitor  who  has  been  giving  our 
secrets  away  to  the  sophs.  Both  Rattleton  and  myself 
heard  him  acknowledge  it.  Take  a  good  look  at  him, 
so  you  will  know  him  in  the  future." 

"Oh,  we'll  know  him !"  cried  many  voice*. 


280  The  Traitor  Discovered. 

"It's  a  mistake "  Roll  began. 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Frank.  "The  worst  mis- 
take you  ever  made.  At  last  you  have  shown  just 
what  you  are,  and  everybody  is  dead  onto  you.  Get 
out  of  this !" 

"Tar  and  feather  him!"  shouted  a  voice. 

"Let  him  go,"  advised  Merriwell.  "He  is  covered 
with  a  coating  of  disgrace  that  will  not  come  off  as 
easily  as  tar  and  feathers." 

Ditson  sneaked  away,  the  hisses  of  his  classmates 
sounding  in  his  ears.  The  look  on  his  face  as  he  rolled 
his  eyes  toward  Merriwell  before  leaving  the  room  was 
malicious  in  the  extreme. 

Frank  turned  to  Walter,  who  did  not  seem  to  know 
what  to  do. 

"Gordon,  you  have  found  that  fellow  out,  which  is  a 
lucky  thing  for  you,"  he  said.  "He  would  have  ruined 
you.  At  the  same  time,  I  have  found  out  that  you  had 
no  hand  in  the  sneaking  work  that  has  been  going  on 
of  late.  You  were  simply  an  unconscious  and  un- 
willing tool,  and  it  did  me  good  to  see  you  resent  it 
when  you  found  out  what  Ditson  had  been  doing." 

\Yalter  tried  to  say  something,  but  he  choked  and 
stammered.  Then  he  muttered  something  about  hav- 
ing a  drink  all  around,  but  Frank  assured  him  that  he 
had  taken  quite  enough. 

Rattleton  and  Robinson  led  the  crowd  away  from  the 


The  Traitor  Discovered.  281 

corner,  and  Merriwell  had  a  brief  talk  with  Gordon. 
Then  Harry  and  Frank  took  Gordon  out  and  did  not 
leave  him  till  he  was  safely  in  his  room.  As  they  were 
going  away  Walter  thickly  said : 

"Merriwell!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  want  to  'pologize." 

"What  for?" 

"Things  I've  said  'bout  you." 

"I  don't  know  about  them." 

"  'Cause  I've  said  'em  behind  your  back.  Sneakin' 
thing  to  do !  Merriwell,  I'm  'shamed — I  am,  by  thun- 
der !  I  guess  you're  all  right.  Don't  b'lieve  you  ever 
done  me  dirt.  Is  it  all  right,  old  man  ?" 

"Yes,  it's  all  right." 

"Say,  that  makes  me  feel  better.  It  does,  by  thun- 
der! You're  a  good  fellow,  Merriwell,  and  I'm — I'm 
a  fool !  I  talk  too  much !  Drink  too  much,  too.  You 
don't  talk  and  you  don't  drink.  You're  all  right. 
Good-night,  Merriwell." 

"Good-night,  Gordon." 

When  Frank  retired  the  second  time  that  night  it 
was  with  a  feeling  of  intense  relief,  for  the  perplexing 
problem  as  to  the  identity  of  the  traitor  had  been  set- 
tled, and  he  felt  that  he  had  done  Gordon  a  good  turn 
by  getting  him  away  from  Ditson. 

And  Ditson  ?     Well,  he  deserved  to  pass  a  wretched 


282  The  Traitor  Discovered. 

night,  and  he  did.  He  felt  that  he  was  forever  dis- 
graced at  Yale,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  consider  it  his 
own  fault.  He  blamed  Merriwell  for  it  all,  and  his 
heart  was  hot  with  almost  murderous  rage.  Over  and 
over  he  swore  that  he  would  get  square  some  way — 
any  way. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   RACE. 

The  day  for  the  race  came  at  last — a  sunny  day,  with 
the  air  clear  and  cold.  Just  the  right  sort  of  a  day  for 
the  best  of  work. 

Everybody  seemed  bound  for  Lake  Saltonstall. 
They  were  going  out  in  carriages,  hacks,  coaches,  on 
foot,  by  train,  and  in  many  other  ways.  The  road  to 
the  lake  was  lined  with  people.  The  students  were 
shouting,  singing  and  blowing  horns.  One  crowd  of 
freshmen  had  a  big  banner,  on  which  was  lettered : 

"  'Umpty-eight,  she  is  great, 
She  will  win  sure  as  fate." 

Evidently  the  sophomores  had  been  informed  about 
this  banner  in  advance,  for  they  carried  one  which 
declared : 

"  'Umpty-eight  isn't  in  it, 

She'll  be  beaten  in  a  minute." 

How  they  shouted  and  taunted  each  other!  How 
they  raced  along  the  road !  How  sure  everybody  was 
that  he  could  pick  the  winner! 

The  scene  at  the  lake  was  beautiful  and  inspiring, 
for  the  shore  was  lined  with  people  and  there  were  flags 


284  The  Race. 

and  bright  colors  everywhere.  On  the  point  there 
was  a  great  mob,  composed  mostly  of  students,  who 
were  yelling  and  cheering  and  flaunting  their  flags. 
The  boats  on  the  lake  were  well  filled  and  gay  with 
colors.  New  Haven  swell  society  was  fairly  repre- 
sented, and  it  certainly  was  an  occasion  to  stir  youth- 
ful blood. 

The  freshman-sophomore  junior  race  came  fourth 
on  the  list,  and  it  was  to  be  the  event  of  the  day. 
Strangely  enough,  the  juniors  were  not  reckoned  as 
dangerous  by  either  freshmen  or  sophomores.  Be- 
tween the  last  two  classes  was  to  come  the  real  tug 
of  war. 

In  the  boathouse  the  great  Bob  Collingwood,  of  the 
'Varsity  crew,  gave  the  freshmen  some  advice,  and  they 
listened  to  him  with  positive  awe.  He  had  heard  of 
MerriwelFs  attempt  to  introduce  the  English  stroke, 
and  he  did  not  approve  of  it. 

After  he  had  got  through  Merriwell  took  his  men 
aside  into  another  part  of  the  boathouse  and  warned 
them  against  thinking  of  anything  Collingwood  had 
said. 

"He  is  all  right  when  he  is  talking  to  men  who  use 
his  style  of  oar  and  the  regular  American  stroke,  but 
you  will  be  broke  up  sure  as  fate  if  you  think  of  what  he 
has  said  that  disagrees  with  my  instructions.  It  is 


The  Race.  285 

too  late  now  to  make  any  change,  and  we  must  win  or 
lose  as  we  have  practiced." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  every  man. 

"We'll  win,"  said  Rattleton,  resolutely. 

They  could  hear  the  cheering  as  the  other  races  took 
place,  and  at  last  it  came  their  turn.  How  their  hearts 
thumped!  And  it  was  Merriwell  that  quieted  their 
unsteady  nerves  with  a  few  low,  calm  words,  which 
seemed  to  give  them  the  bracer  which  they  needed  be- 
fore going  into  the  race. 

'Umpty-eight  yelled  like  a  whole  tribe  of  Indians, 
wildly  waving  flags,  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  as  the 
freshman  boat  shot  out  upon  the  lake,  with  Merriwell 
at  the  stroke.  They  did  not  row  in  the  buff,  as  the 
weather  was  too  cold,  but  all  wore  thin  white  shirts, 
with  "  'Umpty-eight"  lettered  in  blue  on  the  breast 

Old  rowers  looked  the  freshmen  over  with  aston- 
ishment, for  they  gave  the  appearance  of  well-drilled 
amateurs,  and  not  greenhorns.  There  were  a  few  ex- 
pressions of  approval.  The  novel  stroke  was  watched 
and  criticised,  and  an  old  grad  who  was  regarded  as 
authority  declared  that  the  man  who  set  the  stroke  for 
that  crew  was  a  comer,  providing  he  was  built  of  the 
right  kind  of  stuff. 

Then  came  the  sophs  and  juniors,  both  pulling  pret- 
tily and  gracefully,  and  both  being  cheered  by  their 
classes.  The  juniors  were  light,  but  they  expected  to 


286  The  Race. 

walk  away  from  the  freshmen,  as  they  had  an  expert 
at  the  stroke  and  had  been  coached  by  Collingwood. 

Soon  the  three  crews  lined  up,  and  the  voice  of  the 
referee  was  heard : 

"Are  you  ready?" 

Dead  silence. 

"Go!" 

Away  shot  the  boats,  and  the  sophs  took  the  lead  di- 
rectly, their  short,  snappy  stroke  giving  the  boat  the  re- 
quired impetus  in  short  order.  The  juniors  held  close 
on  to  them,  while  the  freshmen  seemed  to  take  alto- 
gether too  much  time  to  get  away,  striking  a  regular, 
long,  swinging  stroke  that  seemed  to  be  "overdone,"  as 
a  jubilant  sophomore  spectator  characterized  it. 

The  sophs  along  the  shore  and  on  the  point  were 
wild  with  delight.  They  danced  and  howled,  confident 
of  victory  at  the  very  outset.  The  juniors  were  en- 
thusiastic, but  not  so  demonstrative  as  the  sophomores. 
The  freshmen  cheered,  but  there  seemed  to  be  disap- 
pointment in  the  sound. 

"Whoop  'er  up  for  'Umpty-seven !"  howled  the 
sophs.  "Whoop  'er  up!  'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!  This  is 
a  cinch !" 

"  'Umpty-eight  is  in  it ;  she  will  catch  'em  in  a  min- 
ute," sang  the  freshmen.  "She  is  crawling  on  them !" 

"All  she  can  do  is  crawl !"  yelled  a  soph,  but  his  re- 
mark was  drowned  in  the  wild  tumult  of  noise. 


The  Race.  287 

"  'Umpty-six  is  up  to  tricks !"  shouted  the  juniors. 
"  'Umpty-six,  they  are  bricks !  Whoop  'er  up !  'Rah ! 
'rah! 'rah!" 

The  yelling  of  the  freshmen  became  louder,  for  their 
crew  was  holding  its  own — was  beginning  to  gain. 

"That  is  the  best  freshman  crew  that  ever  appeared 
at  Saltonstall,"  declared  a  spectator.  "Every  man 
seems  to  be  a  worker.  There's  no  one  shirking." 

"And  look  at  the  stroke  oar,"  urged  another.  "That 
fellow  is  the  winner!  He  is  working  like  a  veteran, 
and  he  is  setting  a  stroke  that  is  bound  to  tell  before  the 
race  is  over." 

This  was  true  enough.  The  strong,  long  stroke  of 
the  freshmen  kept  their  boat  going  steadily  at  high 
speed  once  it  was  in  motion,  and  they  steadily  over- 
hauled the  juniors,  who  had  fallen  away  from  the 
sophs.  At  the  stake  the  freshman  crew  passed  the 
juniors,  and  the  freshmen  witnesses  had  fits. 

But  that  was  not  the  end  of  the  excitement.  The 
speed  of  the  freshman  boat  was  something  wonderful, 
and  it  was  overhauling  the  sophs,  despite  the  fact  that 
they  were  pulling-  for  dear  life  to  hold  the  lead. 

And  now  the  shouting  for  'Umpty-eight  was  heard 
on  every  side.  The  sophs  were  encouraging  their  men 
to  hold  the  advantage  to  the  finish,  but  still  the  fresh- 
men were  gaining. 

The  nose  of  the  freshman  boat  crept  alongside  trie 


288  The  Race. 

sophs,  whose  faces  wore  a  do-or-die  look.  The  sus- 
pense was  awful,  the  excitement  was  intense: 

Then  Rattleton  was  heard  talking: 

"Well,  this  is  the  greatest  snap  we  ever  struck!  I 
wonder  how  the  sophs  like  the  Oxford  stroke?  Oh, 
my !  what  guys  we  are  making  of  them !  It  don't  make 
a  dit  of  bifference  how  hard  they  pull,  they're  not  in 
the  race  at  all.  Poor  sophs !  Why  don't  they  get  out 
and  walk?  They  could  get  along  faster." 

That  seemed  to  break  the  sophs  up,  and  then  a  great 
shout  went  up  as  the  freshman  boat  forged  into  the 
lead.  They  soon  led  the  sophs  by  a  length,  and  crossed 
the  line  thirty  feet  in  advance. 

Then  Rattleton  keeled  over,  completely  done  up,  but 
supremely  happy. 

How  the  freshmen  spectators  did  cheer ! 

"  'Umpty-eight !  'Umpty-eight !  Whoop  'er  up ! 
'Rah!  'rah!'  rah!" 

It  was  another  great  victory  for  the  freshmen — and 
Frank  Merriwell,  and  that  night  a  great  bonfire  blazed 
on  the  campus  and  the  students  made  merry.  They 
blew  horns,  sang,  cheered  and  had  a  high  old  time. 

The  freshmen  made  the  most  noise,  and  they  were 
very  proud  and  aggressive.  Never  had  Yale  College 
freshmen  seemed  happier. 

"Where  is  Merriwell?"  was  the  question  that  went 
around. 


The  Race.  289 

A  committee  was  sent  to  search  for  him,  and  they 
returned  with  him  on  their  shoulders.  He  tried  to  get 
down,  but  he  could  not. 

Uncle  Blossom  climbed  on  a  box  and  shouted: 

"Three  cheers  for  'Umpty-eight,  the  winners!" 

The  cheers  were  given. 

Easy  Street  leaped  on  another  box  and  yelled: 

"Three  cheers  for  Frank  Merriwell,  the  winning 
oar!" 

It  seemed  that  the  freshmen  were  trying  to  split 
their  throats.  And  not  a  few  juniors  joined  with  them,, 
showing  how  much  admiration  Merriwell  had  won 
outside  his  own  class. 

Walter  Gordon  cheered  with  the  others,  but  Roland 
Ditson  stood  at  a  distance,  beating  his  heart  out  with 
rage  and  jealousy.  He  was  all  alone,  for  at  Yale  not 
one  man  was  left  who  cared  to  acknowledge  Ditson  as 
a  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A   CHANGE   OF    PITCHERS. 

"The  game  is  lost!" 

"Sure." 

"Yale  has  not  scored  since  the  second  inning." 

"That's  right.  She  made  one  in  the  first  and  three 
in  the  second,  and  then  comes  four  beautiful  white- 
washes. Harvard  hasn't  missed  a  trick,  and  the  score 
is  eleven  to  four  in  her  favor." 

"Lewis,  this  is  awful!" 

"Right  you  are,  Jones.  Hear  those  Harvard  rooters 
whoop  up !  It  gives  me  nervous  prostration." 

The  Yale  freshmen  were  playing  the  Harvard  fresh- 
men on  the  grounds  of  the  latter  team,  and  quite  a 
large  delegation  had  come  on  from  New  Haven  to 
witness  the  game,  which  was  the  second  of  the  series 
of  three  arranged  between  the  freshmen  teams  of  the 
two  colleges..  The  first  had  been  played  at  New  Ha- 
ven, and  the  third  was  to  be  played  on  neutral  ground. 

Yale  had  won  the  first  game  by  heavy  batting,  the 
final  score  being  twelve  to  eleven.  As  the  regular 
'Varsity  nine  had  likewise  won  the  first  of  their  series 
with  Harvard,  the  "Sons  of  Eli"  began  to  think  they 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  291 

had  a  sure  thing,  and  those  who  came  on  from  New 
Haven  were  dead  sure  in  their  minds  that  they  would 
bring  back  the  scalps  of  the  Harvard  freshmen.  They 
said  over  and  over  that  there  would  be  no  need  of  a 
third  game  to  settle  the  matter ;  Yale  would  settle  it  in 
the  second. 

Walter  Gordon  had  pitched  the  whole  of  the  first 
Harvard  game.  He  had  been  hammered  for  thirteen 
singles,  two  two-baggers,  and  a  three-bagger,  and  still 
Yale  had  pulled  out,  which  was  rather  remarkable. 
But  Walter  had  managed  to  keep  Harvard's  hits  scat- 
tered, while  Yale  bundled  their  hits  in  two  innings, 
which  was  just  enough  to  give  them  the  winning  scare. 

It  was  said  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  to  be  given  a 
show  in  the  second  game,  and  a  large  number  of  Yale 
men  who  were  not  freshmen  had  come  on  to  see  what 
he  would  do.  Pierson  had  been  particularly  anxious 
to  see  Merriwell  work,  and  he  had  taken  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  to  come  on.  The  "great  and  only"  Bob  Col- 
lingwood,  of  the  'Varsity  crew,  had  accompanied  Pier- 
son,  and  both  were  much  disappointed,  not  to  say  dis- 
gusted, when  Old  Put  put  in  Gordon  and  kept  him  in 
the  box,  despite  the  fact  that  he  was  being  freely 
batted. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Putnam?"  growled  Pier- 
son.  "Has  he  got  a  grudge  against  Merriwell,  or 
does  he  intend  to  lose  this  game  anyway?" 


292  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

"He's  asleep,"  said  Colling"wood,  wearily.  "He's 
stuck  on  Gordon." 

"He  must  be  thick  if  he  can't  see  Gordon  is  rapidly 
losing  his  nerve.  Why,  the  fellow  is  liable  to  go  tc 
pieces  at  any  minute  and  let  those  Willies  run  in  a 
score  that  will  be  an  absolute  disgrace." 

"Go  down  and  talk  to  him,  Pierson." 

"Not  much !  I  am  too  well  known  to  the  Harvard 
gang.  They  wouldn't  do  a  thing  to  me — not  a  thing !" 

"Then  let's  get  out  of  here.  It  makes  me  sick  tc 
hear  that  Harvard  yell.  I  can't  stand  it,  Pierson."  • 

"Wait.  I  want  to  see  Merriwell  go  into  the  box,  if 
they  will  let  him  at  all.  That's  what  I  came  for." 

"But  he  can't  save  the  game  now.  The  Yale  crowd 
is  not  doing  any  batting.  All  Harvard  has  to  do  is 
to  hold  them  down,  and  they  scarcely  have  touched 
Coulter  since  the  second  inning." 

"That's  right,  but  the  fellow  is  easy,  Coll.  If  they 
ever  should  get  onto  him " 

"How  can  they?     They  are  not  batters." 

Pierson  nodded. 

"That  is  true,"  he  admitted.  "They  are  weak  with 
the  stick.  Diamond  is  the  only  man  who  seems  to 
know  how  to  go  after  a  ball  properly.  He  is  raw,  but 
there  is  mighty  good  stuff  in  that  fellow.  If  he  sticks 
to  baseball  he  will  be  on  the  regular  team  before  he 
finishes  his  course." 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  293 

"I  believe  Merriwell  has  shown  up  well  as  a  batter  in 
practice." 

"He  certainly  has." 

"Well,  I  should  think  Old  Put  would  use  him  for 
his  hitting,  if  for  nothing  else.  He  is  needed." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  a  nigger  in  the  wood- 
pile." 

"You  think  Merriwell  is  held  back  for  reasons  not 
known?" 

"I  do." 

"Say.  by  jingoes!  I  am  going  down  and  talk  to 
Putnam.  If  he  doesn't  give  Merriwell  a  trial  he's  a 
chump." 

"Hold  on." 

"What  for?  If  I  wait  it  will  be  too  late  for  Merri- 
well to  go  in  on  the  first  of  the  seventh." 

"Perhaps  Merriwell  may  stand  on  his  dignity  and 
refuse  to  go  in  at  all  at  this  late  stage  of  the  game." 

"He  wouldn't  be  to  blame  if  he  did,  for  he  can't 
win  out." 

"Something  is  up.  Hello!  Merriwell  is  getting 
out  of  his  sweater !  I  believe  Putnam  is  going  to  send 
him  out !" 

There  was  a  great  satisfaction  in  Pierson's  voice. 
At  last  it  seemed  that  he  would  get  a  chance  to  see 
Merriwell  work. 

"Somebody  ought  to  go  down  and  rap  Putnam  on 


294  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

the  coco  with  a  big  heavy  club !"  growled  Collingwood. 
"He  should  have  made  the  change  long  ago.  The 
Harvard  Willies  have  been  piling  up  something  every 
inning." 

Down  on  the  visitors'  bench  Merriwell  was  seen  to 
peel  off,  while  Gordon  was  talking  rather  excitedly  to 
Burnham  Putnam.  It  seemed  evident  by  his  manner 
that  he  was  speaking  of  something  that  did  not  please 
him  very  much. 

Merriwell  was  pulled  out  of  his  sweater,  and  then 
somebody  tossed  him  a  practice  ball.  Little  Danny 
Griswold,  the  Yale  shortstop,  put  on  a  catcher's  mitt 
and  prepared  to  catch  for  Frank. 

Yale  was  making  a  last  desperate  struggle  for  a 
score  in  the  sixth  inning.  With  one  man  out  and  a 
man  on  first,  a  weak  batter  came  up.  If  the  batter 
tried  to  get  a  hit,  it  looked  like  a  great  opportunity  for 
a  double  play  by  Harvard. 

Old  Put,  who  was  in  uniform,  ran  down  to  first,  and 
sent  in  the  coacher,  whose  place  he  took  on  the  line. 
Then  he  signaled  the  batter  to  take  one,  his  signal  being 
obeyed,  and  it  proved  to  be  a  ball. 

Put  was  a  great  coacher,  and  now  he  opened  up  in 
a  lively  way,  with  Robinson  rattling  away  over  by 
third.  Put  was  not  talking  simply  to  rattle  the  pitcher ; 
he  was  giving  signals  at  the  same  time,  and  he  signed 
for  the  man  on  first  to  go  down  on  the  next  pitch,  at 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  295 

the  same  time  giving  the  batter  the  tip  to  make  a  fake 
swing  at  the  ball  to  bother  the  catcher. 

This  programme  was  carried  out,  and  it  worked,  for 
the  runner  got  second  on  a  slide  and  a  close  decision. 

Then  the  Yale  rooters  opened  their  throats,  and  blue 
banners  fluttered  in  a  bunch  over  on  the  bleachers 
where  the  New  Haven  gang  was  packed  together. 

"Yell,  you  suckers,  yell!"  cried  Dickson,  Harvard's 
first  baseman.  "It's  the  only  chance  you'll  get." 

His  words  were  drowned  in  the  tumult  and  noise. 

Up  in  the  grand  stand  there  was  a  waving  of  blue 
flags  and  white  handkerchiefs,  telling  that  there  were 
not  a  few  of  the  fair  spectators  who  sympathized  with 
the  boys  from  .New  Haven. 

Then  the  man  at  the  bat  reached  first  on  a  scratch 
hit  and  a  fumble,  and  there  seemed  to  be  a  small  rift  in 
the  clouds  which  had  lowered  over  the  heads  of  the 
Yale  freshmen  so  long. 

But  the  next  man  up  promptly  fouled  out,  and  the 
clouds  seemed  to  close  in  again  as  dark  as  ever. 

In  the  meantime  Frank  was  warming  up  with  the 
aid  of  Danny  Griswold,  and  Walter  Gordon  sat  on  the 
bench,  looking  sulky  and  downcast. 

"Gordon  is  a  regular  pig,"  said  one  of  the  freshman 
players  to  a  companion.  "He  doesn't  know  when  he 
has  enough." 

"Well,  we  know  we  have  had  enough  of  him  thie 


296  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

game,"  said  the  other,  sourly.  "If  we  had  played  a 
rotten  fielding  game  Harvard  would  have  a  hundred 
now." 

"Well,  nearly  that,"  grinned  the  first  speaker. 
"Gordon  hasn't  struck  out  a  man." 

"And  still  he  is  sore  because  Putnam  is  going  to  put 

Merriwell  in !  I  suppose  that  is  natural,  but Hi, 

there!  look  a'  that!  Great  Scott!  what  sloppy  workl 
Did  you  see  Newton  get  caught  playing  off  second? 
Well,  that  gives  me  cramps!  Come  on;  he's  the  last 
man,  and  we'll  have  to  go  out." 

So,  to  the  delight  of  the  Harvard  crowd,  Yale  was 
whitewashed  again,  and  there  seemed  no  show  for  the 
New  Haven  boys  to  win. 

Walter  Gordon  remained  on  the  bench,  and  Frank 
walked  down  into  the  box.  Then  came  positive  proof 
of  Merriwell's  popularity,  for  the  New  Haven  specta- 
tors arose  as  one  man,  wildly  waving  hats  and  flags, 
and  gave  three  cheers  and  a  tiger  for  Frank. 

"That's  what  kills  him!"  exclaimed  Pierson  in  dis- 
gust. "It  is  sure  to  rattle  any  green  man." 

"That's  right,"  yawned  Collingwood.  "It's  plain 
we  have  wasted  our  time  in  coming  here  to-day." 

"It  looks  that  way  from  the  road.  Why  couldn't 
the  blamed  chumps  keep  still,  so  he  could  show  what  he 
is  made  of?" 

"It's  ten  to  one  he  won't  be  able  to  find  the  plate  for 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  297 

five  minutes.  I  believe  I  can  see  him  shaking  from 
here." 

The  Harvard  crowd  had  never  heard  of  Merriwell, 
and  they  regarded  him  with  no  little  interest  as  he 
walked  into  the  box.  When  the  Yale  spectators  were 
through  cheering  Harvard  took  it  up  in  a  derisive  way, 
and  it  certainly  was  enough  to  rattle  any  fellow  with 
ordinary  nerves. 

But  Frank  did  not  seem  to  hear  all  the  howling.  He 
paid  no  attention  to  the  cheers  of  his  friends  or  the 
jeers  of  the  other  party.  He  seemed  in  no  great  hurry. 
He  made  sure  that  every  man  was  in  position,  felt  of 
the  pitcher's  plate  with  his  foot,  kicked  aside  a  small 
pebble,  and  then  took  any  amount  of  time  in  prepar- 
ing to  deliver. 

Collingwood  began  to  show  some  interest.  He 
punched  Pierson  in  the  ribs  with  his  elbow  and  ob- 
served : 

"Hanged  if  he  acts  as  if  he  is  badly  rattled  I" 

"That's  so.  He  doesn't  seem  to  be  in  a  hurry,"  ad- 
mitted Paul.  "He  is  using  his  head  at  the  very  start, 
for  he  is  giving  himself  time  to  become  cool  and 
steady." 

"He  has  Gibson,  the  best  batter  on  the  Harvard 
team,  facing  him.  Gibson  is  bound  to  get  a  safe  hit." 

"He  is  pretty  sure  to,  and  that  is  right." 

Merriwell  knew  that  Nort  Gibson  was  the  heaviest 


298  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

and  surest  batter  on  the  Harvard  team,  but  he  had 
been  watching  the  fellow  all  through  the  game,  trying 
to  "get  his  alley."  He  had  seen  Gibson  light  on  a 
drop  and  smash  it  fiercely,  and  then  he  had  seen  him 
get  a  safe  hit  off  a  rise,  while  an  outcurve  did  not  fool 
him  at  all,  as  he  would  bang  it  if  it  came  over  the  plate 
or  let  it  alone  when  it  went  outside. 

Frank's  mind  was  made  up,  and  he  had  resolved  to 
give  Gibson  everything  in  close  to  his  fingers.  Then, 
if  he  did  hit  it,  he  was  not  liable  to  knock  it  very  far. 

The  first  ball  Merriwell  delivered  looked  like  a  pretty 
one,  and  Gibson  went  after  it.  It  was  an  in  shoot,  and 
the  batter  afterward  declared  it  grazed  his  knuckles 
as  it  passed. 

"One  strike!"  called  the  umpire, 

"What's  this !  what's  this !"  exclaimed  Collingwood, 
sitting  up  and  rubbing  his  eyes.  "What  did  he  do, 
anyway  ?" 

"Fooled  the  batter  with  a  high  inshoot,"  replied  Pier- 
son. 

"Well,  he  doesn't  seem  to  be  so  very  rattled  after 
all." 

"Can't  tell  yet.  He  did  all  right  that  time,  but  Gib- 
son has  two  more  chances.  If  he  gets  a  drop  or  an 
outcurve  that  is  within  reach,  he  will  kill  it." 

Ben  Halliday  was  catching  for  Yale.  Rattleton, 
the  change  catcher  and  first  baseman,  was  laid  off  with 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  299 

a  bad  finger.  He  was  rooting  with  the  New  Haven 
gang. 

Halliday  returned  the  ball  and  signaled  for  a  rise, 
but  Merriwell  shook  his  head  and  took  a  position  that 
meant  that  he  wished  to  try  the  same  thing  over  again. 
Halliday  accepted,  and  then  Frank  sent  the  ball  like  a 
shot 

This  time  it  seemed  a  certain  thing  that  Frank  had 
depended  on  a  high  straight  ball,  and  Gibson  could  not 
let  it  pass.  He  came  near  breaking  his  back  trying  to 
start  the  cover  on  the  ball,  but  once  more  he  fanned 
the  air. 

"Great  Jupiter!"  gasped  Collingwood,  who  was  now 
aroused.  "What  did  he  do  then,  Pierson  ?" 

"Fooled  the  fellow  on  the  same  thing  exactly!" 
chuckled  Paul.  "Gibson  wasn't  looking  for  two  in 
the  same  place." 

Now  the  freshmen  spectators  from  Yale  let  them- 
selves out.  They  couldn't  wait  for  the  third  strike,  but 
they  cheered,  blew  horns  and  whistles,  and  waved  flags 
and  hats. 

Merriwell  had  a  trick  of  taking  up  lots  of  time  in  a 
busy  way  without  pitching  the  ball  while  the  excitement 
was  too  high,  and  his  appearance  seemed  to  indicate 
that  he  was  totally  deaf  to  all  the  tumult. 

"That's  right,  Merry,  old  boy !"  yelled  an  enthusias- 
tic New  Haven  lad.  "Trim  his  whiskers  with  them." 


3oo  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

"Wind  them  around  his  neck,  Frank!"  cried  Harry 
Rattleton.  "You  can  do  it !" 

Rattleton  had  the  utmost  confidence  in  his  chum, 
and  he  had  offered  to  bet  that  not  one  of  the  first  three 
men  up  would  get  a  safe  hit  off  him.  Sport  Harris, 
who  was  always  looking  for  a  chance  to  risk  some- 
thing, promptly  took  Harry  up,  and  each  placed  a 
"sawbuck"  in  the  hands  of  Deacon  Dunning. 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,  Harris,"  laughed  Rattleton 
after  Gibson  had  missed  the  second  time,  "but  he's  go- 
ing to  use  them  all  that  way." 

"Wait,  my  boy,"  returned  Sport,  coolly.  "I  am 
inclined  to  think  this  man  will  get  a  hit  yet." 

"I'll  go  you  ten  to  five  he  doesn't." 

"Done!" 

They  had  no  time  to  put  up  the  money,  for  Merri- 
well  was  at  work  again,  and  they  were  eager  to  watch 
him. 

The  very  next  ball  was  an  outcurve,  but  it  was  be- 
yond Gibson's  reach  and  he  calmly  let  it  pass.  Then 
followed  a  straight  one  that  was  on  the  level  with  the 
top  of  the  batter's  head,  and  Gibson  afterward  ex- 
pressed regret  that  he  did  not  try  it.  The  third  one 
was  low  and  close  to  Gibson's  knees. 

Three  balls  had  been  called  in  succession,  and  the 
next  one  settled  the  matter,  for  it  stood  three  to  two. 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  301 

"Has  he  gone  to  pieces?"  anxiously  asked  Colling- 
wood. 

"I  don't  think  so,"  answered  Pierson,  "but  he  has 
wasted  good  opportunities  trying  to  pull  Gibson.  He 
is  in  a  bad  place  now." 

"You  have  him  in  a  hole,  Gibson,"  cried  a  voice. 
"The  next  one  must  be  right  over,  and  he  can't  put  it 
there," 

"It  looks  as  if  you  would  win,  Rattleton,"  said  Har- 
ris in  mild  disgust  "Merriwell  is  going  to  give  the 
batter  his  base,  and  so,  of  course,  he  will  not  get 
a  hit." 

Harry  was  nettled,  and  quick  as  a  flash  returned : 

"Four  balls  hits  for  a  go — I  mean  goes  for  a  hit  in 
this  case." 

Harris  laughed. 

"Now  I  have  you  sure,"  he  chuckled. 

"In  your  mind,  Sport,  old  boy." 

Merriwell  seemed  to  be  examining  the  pitcher's 
plate,  then  he  looked  up  like  a  flash,  his  eyes  seeming 
to  sparkle,  and  with  wonderful  quickness  delivered  the 
ball. 

"It's  an  outcurve,"  was  the  thought  which  flashed 
through  Gibson's  mind  as  he  saw  the  sphere  had  been 
started  almost  directly  at  him. 

If  it  was  an  outcurve  it  seemed  certain  to  pass  over 
the  center  of  the  plate,  and  it  would  not  do  to  let  it 


302  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

pass.  It  was  speedy,  and  the  batter  was  forced  to  make 
up  his  mind  in  a  fraction  of  a  second. 

He  struck  at  it — and  missed ! 

"Three  strikes — batter  out!"  called  the  umpire, 
sharply. 

Gibson  dropped  his  stick  in  a  dazed  way,  muttering : 

"Great  Scott !  it  was  a  straight  ball  and  close  to  my 
fingers !" 

He  might  have  shouted  the  words  and  not  been 
heard,  for  the  Yale  rooters  were  getting  in  their  work 
for  fair.  They  gave  one  great  roar  of  delight,  and 
then  came  the  college  yell,  followed  by  the  freshman 
cheer.  At  last  they  were  given  an  opportunity  to  use 
their  lungs,  after  having  been  comparatively  silent  for 
several  innings. 

"Whoop  'er  up  for  'Umpty-eight!"  howled  a  fellow 
with  a  heavy  voice.  "What's  the  matter  with  'Umpty- 
eight  ?" 

"She's  all  right !"  went  up  the  hoarse  roar. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Merriwell?" 

"He's  all  right !"  again  came  that  roar. 

When  the  shouting  had  subsided,  Rattleton  touched 
Harris  on  the  shoulder  and  laughingly  asked : 

"Do  I  win?" 

"Not  yet.     There  are  two  more  coming." 

"But  I  win  just  as  hard,  my  boy." 

"Hope  you  do." 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  303 

The  next  Harvard  batter  came  up,  determined  to 
do  something,  although  he  was  a  trifle  uncertain.  He 
let  the  first  one  pass  and  heard  a  strike  called,  which 
did  not  please  him  much.  The  second  one  was  a 
coaxer,  and  he  let  that  ball  go  by.  The  umpire  called 
a  ball.  The  third  was  a  high  one,  but  it  looked  good, 
and  he  tried  for  it.  It  proved  to  be  a  rise,  and  he 
struck  under  it  at  least  a  foot. 

Bob  Collingwood  was  growing  enthusiastic. 

"That  Merriwell  is  full  of  tricks,"  he  declared. 
"Think  how  he  secretly  coached  the  freshman  crew  up 
on  the  Oxford  stroke  last  fall  and  won  the  race  at  Sal- 
tonstall.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  a  traitor  nobody  would 
have  known  what  he  was  doing  with  the  crew,  for  he 
wouldn't  let  them  practice  at  the  machines." 

"I  have  had  my  eye  on  him  ever  since  he  entered 
Yale,"  confessed  Pierson.  '''I  have  seen  that  he  is  des- 
tined to  come  to  the  front." 

The  batter  seemed  angry  because  he  had  been  de- 
ceived so  easily,  and  this  gave  Frank  satisfaction,  for 
an  angry  man  can  be  deceived  much  easier  than  one 
who  keeps  cool. 

Merriwell  held  them  close  in  on  the  batter,  who  made 
four  fouls  in  succession,  getting  angrier  each  moment. 
By  this  time  an  outdrop  was  the  thing  to  fool  him,  and 
it  worked  nicely. 

"Three  strikes  and  out !"  called  the  umpire. 


304  A  Change  of  Pitchers. 

Frank  had  struck  out  two  men,  and  the  Yale  crowd 
could  not  cheer  loud  enough  to  express  their  delight. 

Old  Put  was  delighted  beyond  measure,  but  he  was 
keeping  pretty  still,  for  he  knew  what  he  was  sure  to 
hear  if  Yale  did  not  pull  the  game  out  some  way.  He 
knew  everybody  would  be  asking  him  why  he  did  not 
put  Merriwell  in  the  box  before. 

Lewis  Little  was  hugging  himself  with  satisfaction, 
while  Dismal  Jones'  long  face  actually  wore  something 
suggestive  of  a  smile. 

Rattleton  felt  like  standing  on  his  head  and  kicking 
up  his  heels  with  the  delight  he  could  not  express. 

"Oh,  perhaps  they  will  give  Frank  a  show  after 
this!"  he  thought.  "Didn't  I  tell  Put,  the  blooming 
idiot?  It  took  him  a  long  time  to  get  out  of  his 
trance." 

Sport  Harris  coolly  puffed  away  at  a  black  cigar, 
seemingly  perfectly  unconcerned,  like  a  born  gambler. 
He  had  black  hair  and  a  faint  line  of  a  mustache.  He 
was  rather  handsome  in  a  way,  but  he  had  a  pro- 
nounced taste  for  loud  neckties. 

The  next  batter  to  come  up  was  nervous,  as  could 
be  seen  at  a  glance.  He  did  not  wish  to  strike  out, 
but  he  was  far  too  eager  to  hit  the  ball,  and  he  went 
after  a  bad  one  at  the  very  start,  which  led  him  to  get  a 
mild  call  down  from  the  bench. 

Then  the  fellow  let  a  good  one  pass,  which  rattled 


A  Change  of  Pitchers.  305 

him  worse  than  ever.  The  next  looked  good  and  he 
swung  at  it. 

He  hit  it,  and  it  went  up  into  the  air,  dropping  into 
Merriwell's  hands,  who  did  not  have  to  step  out  of  his 
tracks  to  get  it. 

Yale  had  whitewashed  Harvard  for  the  first  time  in 
that  game. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE   GAME   GROWS    HOTTER. 

By  the  noise  the  Yale  crowd  made  one  might  have 
fancied  the  game  was  theirs  beyond  a  doubt. 

"Poor  fellows!"  said  one  languid  Harvardite  to  an 
equally  languid  companion.  "It's  the  only  chawnce 
they  have  had  to  cheer.  Do  let  them  make  a  little 
noise." 

"Yas,"  said  his  companion,  "do.  It  isn't  at  all 
likely  they  will  get  another  opportunity  during  this 
game." 

There  were  cheers  for  Merriwell,  but  Frank  walked 
to  the  bench  and  put  on  his  sweater  as  if  utterly  uncon- 
scious of  the  excitement  he  had  created.  His"  uncon- 
cerned manner  won  fresh  admiration  for  him. 

Old  Put  congratulated  Frank  as  soon  as  the  bench 
was  reached. 

"That  was  great  work,  Merriwell.  Keep  it  up! 
Keep  it  up!" 

"That  kind  of  work  will  not  win  the  game  as  the 
score  stands,"  returned  Frank.  "Some  batting  must 
be  done,  and  there  must  be  some  score  getting." 


The  Game  Grows  Hotter.  307 

"Yon  are  right,  and  you  are  the  second  man  up  this 
inning.  See  what  you  can  do." 

"If  I  had  known  I  came  so  soon  I  wouldn't  have  put 
on  my  sweater." 

"Keep  it  on.  You  must  not  get  chilly.  We  can't 
tell  what  may  happen.  Harder  games  than  this  have 
been  pulled  out.  They  lead  us  but  five  scores." 

"Blossom  bats  ahead  of  me,  does  he?  Well,  he 
never  got  a  hit  when  one  was  wanted  in  all  his  life; 
but  he's  got  a  trick  that  is  just  as  good,  if  he  will  try 
to  work  it." 

"Getting  hit  by  the  ball  ?  He  is  clever  at  that.  Tell 
him  to  work  the  dodge  this  time  if  he  can.  Get  him 
onto  first  some  way.  We  must  have  some  scores,  if 
we  steal  them." 

"I  wish  we  might  steal  a  few." 

"If  I  get  first  and  Blossom  is  ahead  of  me  on  second, 
let  us  try  the  double  steal.  I  may  be  caught  at  second 
or  he  may  be  caught  at  third,  and  there  is  a  bare  pos- 
sibility that  we'll  both  make  our  bags.  At  any  rate, 
but  one  of  us  is  liable  to  be  caught,  and  if  it  is  Blos- 
som it  will  leave  us  scarcely  any  worse  off  than  before. 
If  it  is  myself,  why,  Blossom  will  be  on  third,  we'll 
have  one  man  out,  and  stand  a  good  show  of  scoring 
once  at  least." 

Merriwell  said  this  in  a  quiet  manner,  not  at  all  as 
if  he  were  trying  to  dictate,  and  Putnam  made  no  re- 


308  The  Game  Grows  Hotter. 

ply.     However,  he  spoke  to  Blossom,  who  was  picking 
out  his  bat 

"Look  here,  Uncle,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  get  first 
base  in  some  way.  Do  you  understand? — in  some 
way.  If  you  can't  make  a  hit  or  get  it  on  balls,  get 
hit." 

Blossom  made  a  wry  face. 

"Coulter's  got  speed  to  burn,"  he  said,  "but  I'll  try 
to  get  hit  if  he  gives  me  an  in,  even  though  it  kills 
me." 

"That's  what  I  want,"  returned  Old  Put,  grimly. 
"Never  mind  if  it  does  kill  you.  We  are  after  scores, 
and  a  life  or  two  is  of  small  consequence." 

"That's  a  pleasant  way  of  looking  at  it,"  muttered 
Blossom  as  he  advanced  to  the  plate.  "Here  goes 
nothing !" 

•  The  very  first  ball  was  an  inshoot,  and  Blossom  pre- 
tended to  dodge  and  slip.  The  ball  took  him  in  the 
side  and  keeled  him  over  instantly.  He  was  given  a 
little  water,  whereupon  he  got  up  and  trotted  down  to 
first,  his  hand  clinging  to  his  side,  but  grinning  a  bit 
in  a  sly  way. 

There  was  a  brief  discussion  about  giving  Blossom 
a  runner,  but  when  one  was  chosen  who  could  not  run 
as  well  as  he  could  himself,  he  suddenly  found  himself 
in  condition  to  get  along  all  right. 

Merriwell  took  his  place  at  the  bat,  having  selected 


The  Game  Grows  Hotter.  309 

a  bat  that  was  a  trifle  over  regulation  length,  if  any- 
thing. 

Frank  saw  a  hole  in  right  field,  and  he  hoped  to  be 
able  to  place  a  hit  right  there.  If  he  could  do  it,  there 
was  a  chance  for  Blossom  to  get  around  to  third  on  a 
single. 

Coulter  knew  nothing  of  Merriwell's  batting,  so  he 
was  forced  to  experiment  on  the  man.  He  tried  a  drop 
that  almost  hit  the  plate,  but  Frank  did  not  bite.  Then 
Coulter  sent  over  a  high  one,  and  still  Merriwell  re- 
fused to  swing,  and  two  balls  had  been  called. 

Coulter  had  a  trick  of  holding  a  man  close  on  first, 
and  so  Blossom  had  not  obtained  lead  enough  to  at- 
tempt to  steal  second. 

Frank  felt  that  Coulter  would  make  an  attempt  to 
get  the  next  one  over  the  outside  or  inside  corner  of 
the  plate,  as  it  would  not  do  to  have  three  balls  in  suc- 
cession called  without  a  single  strike. 

Merriwell  was  right.  Coulter  sent  one  over  the  in- 
side corner,  using  a  straight  ball.  Still  Merriwell  did 
not  offer  at  it,  for  he  could  not  have  placed  it  in  the 
right  field  if  he  had  tried. 

"One  strike!"  called  the  umpire. 

Although  he  seemed  quite  unconcerned,  Sport  Harris 
had  been  nettled  when  Rattleton  won  the  ten-dollar 
bet,  and  he  now  said : 

"I  will  go  you  even  money,  Rattleton,  that  Merri- 


310  The  Game  Grows  Hotter. 

well  does  not  get  a  hit.  If  he  goes  down  on  four  balls 
the  bet  is  off." 

"I'll  stand  you,"  nodded  Harry,  laughingly.  "Why, 
Harris,  I  never  dreamed  you  were  such  an  easy  mark ! 
Merriwell  is  bound  to  get  a  hit." 

"Ha!  ha!"  mocked  Harris.  "Is  that  so?  And  he 
just  let  a  good  one  pass  without  wiggling  his  bat !" 

"It  wasn't  where  he  wanted  it." 

"And  Coulter  will  not  give  him  one  where  he 
wants  it." 

"Coulter  doesn't  know  anything  about  Merriwell's 
batting,  and  so  he  is  liable  to  make  a  break  at  any  mo- 
ment." 

This  proved  right,  for  Coulter  tried  to  fool  Frank 
with  an  outcurve  on  the  next  delivery.  He  started 
the  ball  exactly  as  he  had  the  one  before  it,  to  all  ap- 
pearances as  if  he  meant  to  send  another  straight  one 
over  the  inside  corner.  He  believed  Merriwell  would 
bite  at  it,  and  he  was  right. 

But  right  there  Coulter  received  a  shock,  for  Merri- 
weil  leaned  forward  as  he  swung,  assuming  such  a 
position  that  the  ball  must  have  hit  him  if  it  had  been  a 
straight  one.  It  had  a  sharp,  wide  curve,  and  passe^ 
at  least  ten  inches  beyond  the  plate. 

Passed?  Not  much!  Merriwell  hit  it,  and  sent  a 
"daisy  cutter"  down  into  right  field,  exactly  where  he 
wished  to  pl?^  it. 


The  Game  Grows  Hotter.  311 

Down  on  the  coach  line  near  first  little  Danny  Gris- 
wold  had  convulsions.  He  whooped  like  a  wild  In- 
dian. 

"Spring,  ye  snails!  Tear  up  the  dust,  ye  sons  of 
Eli!  Two — make  it  two,  Bios,  old  boy!  Why,  this 
game  is  easy  now !  We've  just  got  started !  Whoop ! 
Whoopee!" 

In  going  over  second  Blossom  tripped  and  fell  heav- 
ily. When  he  scrambled  to  his  feet  he  was  somewhat 
dazed,  and  it  was  too  late  for  him  to  try  for  third.  He 
saw  Halliday  down  by  third  motioning  wildly  for  him 
to  get  back  and  hold  second,  but  there  was  such  a  roar 
of  voices  that  he  could  not  hear  a  word  the  coachers 
were  saying.  However,  the  signals  were  enough,  and 
he  got  back. 

Now  the  "Sons  of  Eli"  were  all  on  their  feet,  and 
they  were  making  the  air  quiver.  It  was  enough  to  in- 
spire any  man  to  do  or  die,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  there 
was  not  a  man  on  the  Yale  team  who  did  not  feel  at 
that  moment  that  he  was  willing  to  lay  down  his  life, 
if  necessary,  to  win  that  game. 

When  the  shouting  had  subsided  in  a  measure,  Rat- 
tleton  was  heard  to  shout  from  his  perch  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  a  companion,  to  which  position  he  had  shinned 
in  his  excitement : 

"Right  here  is  where  we  trick  our  little  do,  gentle- 
men— er — I  mean  we  do  our  little  trick.  Ready  to 


312          The  Game  Grows  Hotter. 

the  air  of  'Oh,  Give  Us  a  Drink,  Bartender.'     Let 
her  go !" 

Then  the  Yale  crowd  broke  into  an  original  song,  the 
words  of  which  were: 

"Oh,  hammer  it  out,  Old  Eli,  Old  Eli, 

As  you  always  have,  you  know ; 
Fbr  it's  sure  that  we're  all  behind  you,  behind  you, 

And  we  will  cheer  you  as  you  go. 
We're  in  the  game  to  stay,  my  lads,  my  lads, 

We  will  win  it  easily,  too; 
So  give  three  cheers  for  old  'Umpty-eight — 
Three  cheers  for  the  boys  in  blue! 
"Breka  Co  ax,  Co  ax,  Co  ax ! 
Breka  Co  ax,  Co  ax,  Co  ax! 
O — up!   O — up! 

Parabaloo — 
Yale!   Yale!   Yale! 
'Rah !  'rah !  'rah ! 
Yale!" 

The  enthusiasm  which  this  created  was  immense, 
and  the  next  man  walked  up  to  the  plate  filled  with  de- 
termination. However,  Old  Put  was  shrewd  enough 
to  know  the  man  might  be  too  eager,  and  so  he  gave 
the  signal  for  him  to  take  one  anyway. 

Coulter  was  decidedly  nervous,  as  was  apparent  tr 
everybody,  and  it  seemed  that  there  was  a  chance  of 
getting  him  badly  rattled.  That  was  exactly  what  the 
Yale  crowd  was  doing  its  best  to  accomplish. 

Merriwell  crept  away  from  first  for  a  long  lead,  but 
it  was  not  easy  to  get,  as  Coulter  drove  him  back  with 
sharp  throws  each  time.  Then  Blossom  came  near 


The  Game  Grows  Hotter.  31} 

being  caught  napping  off  second,  but  was  given  "safe" 
on  a  close  decision. 

Suddenly  Coulter  delivered,  and  the  batter  obeyed 
Old  Put  and  did  not  offer,  although  it  was  right  over 
the  heart  of  the  plate. 

"One  strike !"  was  called. 

Now  came  the  time  for  the  attempted  double  steal 
that  Frank  had  suggested.  Putnam  decided  to  try  i> 
on,  and  he  signaled  for  it.  At  the  same  time  he  sig- 
naled the  batter  to  make  a  swing  to  bother  the  catcher, 
but  not  to  touch  the  ball. 

Frank  pretended  to  cling  close  to  first,  but  he  was 
watching  for  Coulter's  slightest  preliminary  motion  in 
the  way  of  delivery.  It  came,  and  Old  Put  yelled  from 
the  coach  line,  where  he  had  replaced  Griswold : 

"Gear!" 

Frank  got  a  beautiful  start,  and  Blossom  made  a 
break  for  third.  If  Blossom  had  secured  a  lead  equal 
to  Merriwell's  he  would  have  made  third  easily.  As 
it  was,  the  catcher  snapped  the  ball  down  with  a  short- 
arm  throw,  and  Blossom  was  caught  by  a  foot. 

Then  it  was  Harvard's  turn,  and  the  Cambridge  lads 
made  the  most  of  it.  A  great  roar  went  up,  and  the 
crimson  seemed  to  be  fluttering  everywhere. 

"Har-vard!  Har-vard!  Har-vard!  'Rah!  'rah! 
'rah!  'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!  'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!  Har- 
vard!" 


314  The  Game  Grows  Hotter. 

One  strike  and  one  ball  had  been  called  on  the  bat- 
ter, and  Merriwell  was  on  second,  with  one  man  out. 
•Yale  was  still  longing  vainly  for  scores.  It  began  to 
look  as  if  they  would  still  be  held  down,  and  Coulter 
was  regaining  his  confidence, 

Frank  was  aware  that  something  sensational  must  be 
done  to  keep  Coulter  on  the  string.  He  longed  for  an 
opportunity  to  steal  third,  but  knew  he  would  receive 
a  severe  call  down  from  Old  Put  if  he  failed.  Still  he 
was  ready  to  try  if  he  found  the  opportunity. 

Frank  took  all  the  lead  he  could  secure,  going  up 
with  the  shortstop  every  time  the  second  baseman 
played  off  to  fill  the  right  field  gap.  He  was  so  lively 
on  his  feet  that  he  could  go  back  ahead  of  the  baseman 
every  time,  and  Coulter  gave  up  trying  to  catch  him 
after  two  attempts. 

Frank  took  all  the  ground  he  could,  and  seeing  the 
next  ball  was  an  outdrop  he  legged  it  for  third. 

"Slide!  slide!  slide!"  howled  the  astonished  Halli- 
day,  who  was  still  on  the  coach  line  at  third. 

Frank  obeyed,  and  he  went  over  the  ground  as  if 
he  had  been  greased  for  the  occasion.  He  made  the 
steal  with  safety,  having  a  second  to  spare. 

Rattleton  lost  his  breath  yelling,  and  the  entire  Yale 
crowd  howled  as  one  man.  The  excitement  was  at 
fever  pitch. 


The  Game  Grows  Hotter.  315 

Bob  Collingwood  was  gasping  for  breath,  and  he 
caught  hold  of  Paul  Pierson,  shouting  in  his  ear  : 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"Think  of  it?"  returned  Pierson.  "It  was  a  reck- 
less piece  of  work,  and  Memwell  would  have  got  fits 
if  he'd  failed." 

"But  he  didn't  fail." 

"No;  that  lets  him  out  He  is  working  to  rattle 
Coulter,  but  he  took  desperate  chances.  I  don't  know 
but  it's  the  only  way  to  win  this  game." 

"Of  course  it  is." 

"Merriwell  is  a  wonderful  runner.  I  found  that 
out  last  fall,  when  I  made  up  as  Professor  Grant  and 
attempted  to  relieve  him  of  a  turkey  he  had  captured 
somewhere  out  in  the  country.  I  blocked  his  road  at 
the  start,  but  he  slugged  me  with  the  turk  and  then 
skipped.  I  got  after  him,  and  you  know  I  can  run 
some.  Thought  I  was  going  to  run  him  down  easily 
or  make  him  drop  the  bird ;  but  I  didn't  do  either  and 
he  got  away.  Oh,  he  is  a  sprinter,  and  it  is  plain  he 
knows  how  to  steal  bases.  I  believe  he  is  the  best 
bare  runner  on  the  freshman  team,  if  he  is  not  too 
reckless." 

"He  is  a  dandy!"  exclaimed  Collingwood.  "I  have 
thought  the  fellow  was  given  too  much  credit,  but  I've 
changed  my  mind.  Pierson,  I  believe  he  is  swift 


316  The  Game  Grows  Hotter. 

enough  for  the  regular  team.  What  do  you  think 
of  it?" 

"I  want  to  see  more  of  his  work  before  I  express 
myself." 

Merriwell's  steal  had  indeed  rattled  Coulter,  who  be- 
came so  nervous  that  he  sent  the  batter  down  to  first 
on  four  balls. 

Then,  with  the  first  ball  delivered  to  the  next  man 
up,  the  fellow  on  first  struck  out  for  second. 

Merriwell  was  playing  off  third,  and  pretended  to 
make  a  break  for  home  as  the  catcher  made  a  short 
throw  to  the  shortstop,  who  ran  in  behind  Coulter,  took 
the  ball  and  lined  it  back  to  the  plate. 

But  Frank  had  whirled  about  and  returned  to  third, 
so  the  play  was  wasted,  and  the  runner  reached  second 
safely. 

Then  there  was  more  Yale  enthusiasm,  and  Coulter 
was  so  broken  up  that  he  gave  little  Danny  Griswold  a 
shoulder  ball  right  over  the  heart  of  the  plate. 

Griswold  "ate"  high  balls,  as  the  Harvard  pitcher 
very  well  knew.  He  did  not  fail  to  make  connection 
with  this  one,  and  drove  it  to  deep  left  for  two  bags, 
bringing  in  two  runs. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE   END   OF   THE   GAME. 

Now  the  New  Haven  crowd  took  their  turn,  and 
took  it  in  earnest.  Rattleton  stood  upon  the  shoulders 
of  a  friend,  and  fell  off  upon  the  heads  of  the  crowd 
as  he  was  cheering.  He  didn't  mind  that,  for  he  kept 
right  on  cheering. 

"Merriwell,  I  believe  you  have  broken  the  streak!'* 
cried  Old  Put,  with  inexpressible  satisfaction. 

"Well,  I  sincerely  hope  so,"  returned  Frank.  "I 
rather  think  we  are  all  right  now,  but  we've  got  a 
hard  pull  ahead  of  us.  Harvard  is  still  five  in  the 
lead,  you  know." 

"If  you  can  hold  them  down " 

"I  am  going  to  do  my  best." 

"If  you  save  this  game  the  boys  won't  do  a  thing 
when  we  get  back  to  New  Haven — not  a  thing!" 

The  next  batter  flied  out  to  shortstop,  and  Griswold 
remained  on  second. 

Now  there  was  suspense,  for  Yale  had  two  men 
out.  A  sudden  hush  fell  on  the  field,  broken  only  by 
the  voices  of  the  two  coachers. 

Coulter  had  not  recovered  his  nerve,  and  the  next 


3i8  The  End  of  the  Game. 

batter  got  a  safe  hit  into  right  field,  while  Danny  Gris- 
wold's  short  legs  fairly  twinkled  as  he  scudded  down 
to  third  and  then  tore  up  the  dust  in  a  mighty  effort 
to  get  home  on  a  single. 

Every  Yale  man  was  on  his  feet  cheering  again,  and 
Danny  certainly  covered  ground  in  a  remarkable  man- 
ner. Head  first  he  went  for  the  plate. 

The  right  fielder  secured  the  ball  and  tried  to  stop 
Danny  at  the  plate  by  a  long  throw.  The  throw  was 
all  right,  but  Griswold  was  making  too  much  speed  to 
be  caught. 

The  instant  Old  Put,  who  had  returned  to  the  coach 
line,  saw  that  the  fielder  meant  to  throw  home,  he 
howled  for  the  batter  to  keep  right  on  for  second. 

Griswold  scored  safely,  and  the  catcher  lost  little 
time  in  throwing  to  second. 

"Slide!'  howled  a  hundred  voices. 

The  runner  obeyed,  and  he  got  in  under  the  base- 
man, who  had  been  forced  to  take  a  high  throw. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  what  followed.  The 
most  of  the  Yale  spectators  acted  as  if  they  had  gone 
crazy,  and  those  in  sympathy  with  Harvard  showed 
positive  alarm. 

Two  or  three  men  got  around  the  captain  of  the 
Harvard  team  and  asked  him  to  take  out  Coulter. 

"Put  in  Peck!"  they  urged.     "They've  got  Coulter 


The  End  of  the  Game.  319 

going,  and  he  will  lose  the  game  right  here  if  you  do 
not  change." 

At  this  the  captain  got  angry  and  told  them  to  get 
out.  When  he  got  ready  to  change  he  would  do  it 
without  anybody's  advice. 

Coulter  continued  to  pitch,  and  the  next  batter  got 
first  on  an  error  by  the  shortstop. 

"The  whole  team  is  going  to  pieces !"  laughed  Paul 
Pierson.  "I  wouldn't  be  surprised  to  see  Old  Put's 
boys  pull  the  game  out  in  this  inning,  for  all  that  two 
men  are  out." 

"If  they  do  so,  Merriwell  is  the  man  who  will  de- 
serve the  credit/'  said  Collingwood.  "That  is  dead 
right." 

"Yes,  it  is 'right,  for  he  restored  confidence  and 
started  the  work  of  rattling  Coulter." 

"Paul,"  said  the  great  man  of  the  'Varsity  crew, 
"that  fellow  is  fast  enough  for  the  regular  team." 

"You  said  so  before" 

"And  I  say  so  again." 

Now  it  became  evident  to  everybody  that  Coulter 
was  in  a  pitiful  state,  for  he  could  not  find  the  plate  at 
all,  and  the  next  man  went  down  on  four  balls,  filling 
the  bases. 

But  that  was  not  the  end  of  it  The  next  batter  got 
four  balls,,  and  a  score  was  forced  in. 

Then   it  was   seen  that   Peck,    Harvard's  change 


520  The  End  of  the  Game. 

pitcher,  was  warming  up,  and  it  became  evident  that 
the  captain  had  decided  to  put  him  into  the  box. 

If  the  next  Yale  man  had  not  been  altogether  too 
eager  to  get  a  hit,  there  is  no  telling  when  the  inning 
would  have  stopped.  He  sent  a  high-fly  foul  straight 
into  the  air,  and  the  catcher  succeeded  in  gathering 
it  in. 

The  inning  closed  with  quite  a  change  in  the  score, 
Harvard  having  a  lead  of  but  three,  where  it  had  been 
seven  in  the  lead  at  the  end  of  the  sixth. 

"I  am  afraid  they  will  get  on  to  Merriwell  this 
time,"  said  Sport  Harris,  with  a  shake  of  his  head. 

"Hey!"  squealed  Rattleton,  who  was  quivering  all 
over.  "I'll  give  you  a  chance  to  even  up  with  me. 
I'll  bet  you  twenty  that  Harvard  doesn't  score." 

"Oh,  well,  I'll  have  to  stand  you,  just  for  fun," 
murmured  Harris  as  he  extracted  a  twenty-dollar  bill 
irom  the  roll  it  was  said  rie  always  carried  and  handed 
it  to  Deacon  Dunning.  "Shove  up  your  dough, 
Rattle." 

Harry  covered  the  money  promptly,  and  then  he 
laughed. 

"This  cakes  the  take — I  mean  takes  the  cake!  I 
never  struck  such  an  easy  way  of  making  money!  I 
say,  fellows,  we'll  open  something  after  the  game,  and 
I'll  pay  for  it  with  what  I  win  off  Harris." 


The  End  of  the  Game.  321 

"That  will  be  nice,"  smiled  Harris;  "but  you  may 
riot  be  loaded  with  my  money  after  the  game." 

The  very  first  batter  up,  got  first  on  an  error  by  the 
second  baseman  who  let  an  easy  one  go  through  him. 

"The  money  is  beginning  to  look  my  way  as  soon 
is  this,"  said  Harris. 

"It  is  looking  your  way  to  bid  you  good-by," 
chuckled  Harry,  not  in  the  least  disturbed  or  anxious. 

Merriwell  had  a  way  of  snapping  his  left  foot  out 
of  the  box  for  a  throw  to  first,  and  it  kept  the  runner 
hugging  the  bag  all  the  time. 

Frank  also  had  another  trick  of  holding  the  ball  in 
his  hand  and  appearing  to  give  his  trousers  a  hitch, 
upon  which  he  would  deliver  the  ball  when  neither 
runner  nor  batter  was  expecting  him  to  do  so,  and  yet 
his  delivery  was  perfectly  proper. 

He  struck  the  next  man  out,  and  the  batter  to  fol- 
low hit  a  weak  one  to  third,  who  stopped  the  runner 
at  second. 

Two  men  were  out,  and  still  there  was  a  man  on  first. 
Now  it  looked  dark  for  Harvard  that  inning,  and  not 
a  safe  hit  had  been  made  off  Merriwell  thus  far. 

The  Harvard  crowd  was  getting  anxious.  Was  it 
possible  that  Merriwell  would  hold  them  down  so  they 
could  not  score,  and  Yale  would  yet  pull  out  by  good 
work  at  the  bat  ? 

The  captain  said  a  few  words  to  the  next  batter  be- 


322  The  End  of  the  Game. 

fore  the  man  went  up  to  the  plate,  and  Frank  felt  sur« 
the  fellow  had  been  advised  to  take  his  time. 

Having  made  up  his  mind  to  this,  Frank  sent  a 
swift  straight  one  directly  over,  and,  as  he  had  ex- 
pected, the  batter  let  it  pass,  which  caused  the  umpire 
to  call  a  strike. 

Still  keeping  the  runner  hugging  first,  Frank  seemed 
to  start  another  ball  in  exactly  the  same  manner.  It 
was  not  a  straight  one,  but  it  was1  a  very  slow  drop, 
as  the  batter  discovered  after  he  had  commenced  to 
swing.  Finding  he  could  not  recover,  the  fellow  went 
after  the  ball  with  a  scooping  movement,  and  then  did 
not  come  within  several  inches  of  it,  greatly  to  the  de- 
light of  the  Yale  crowd. 

"Oh,  Merry  has  every  blooming  one  of  them  on  a 
string!"  cried  Rattleton.  "He  thon't  do  a  wing  to  'em 
— I  mean  he  won't  do  a  thing  to  'em." 

The  Yale  men  were  singing  songs  of  victory  al- 
ready, and  the  Harvard  crowd  was  doing  its  best  to 
keep  up  the  courage  of  its  team  by  rooting  hard. 

It  was  a  most  exciting  game. 

"The  hottest  game  I  ever  saw  played  by  freshmen," 
commented  Collingwood. 

"It  is  a  corker,"  confessed  Pierson.  "We  weren't 
looking  for  anything  of  the  sort  a  short  time  ago." 

"I  should  say  not.  Up  to  the  time  Merriwell  went 
in  it  looked  as  if  Harvard  had  a  walkover." 


The  End  ol  the  Game.  323 

"Gordon  feels  bad  enough  about  it,  that  is  plain. 
He  is  trying  to  appear  cheerful  on  the  bench,  but " 

"He  can't  stand  it  any  longer;  he's  leaving." 

That  was  right  Gordon  had  left  the  players' 
bench  and  was  walking  away.  He  tried  to  look  pleased 
at  the  way  things  were  going,  but  the  attempt  was  a 
failure," 

"Merriwell  is  the  luckiest  fellow  alive,"  he  thought. 
**If  I  had  stayed  in  another  inning  the  game  might 
have  changed.  He  is  pitching  good  ball,  but  I'm 
hanged  if  I  can  understand  why  they  do  not  hit  him. 
It  looks  easy." 

Neither  could  the  Harvard  lads  thoroughly  under- 
stand it,  although  there  were  some  who  realized  that 
Merriwell  was  using  his  head,  as  well  as  speed  and 
curves.  And  he  did  not  use  speed  all  the  time.  He 
had  a  fine  change  of  pace,  sandwiching  in  his  slow 
balls  at  irregular  intervals,  but  delivering  them  with 
what  seemed  to  be  exactly  the  same  motion  that  he 
used  on  the  speedy  ones. 

The  fourth  batter  up  struck  out,  and  again  Har- 
vard was  retired  without  a  score,  which  caused  the 
Yale  crowd  to  cheer  so  that  some  of  the  lads  got  al- 
most black  in  the  face. 

"Well!  well!  well!"  laughed  Rattleton,  as  Deacon 
Dunning  passed  over  the  money  he  had  been  holding. 
"This  is  'like  chicking  perries — I  mean  picking  cher- 


324  The  End  of  the  Game. 

ries.  All  I  have  to  do  is  to  reach  out  and  take  what  I 
want." 

"If  the  boys  will  capture  the  game  I'll  be  perfectly 
satisfied  to  lose,"  declared  Harris,  who  did  not  tell  the 
truth,  however,  for  he  was  chagrined,  although  he 
showed  not  a  sign  of  it. 

"How  can  we  lose?  how  can  we  lose?"  chuckled 
Harry.  "Things  are  coming  our  way,  as  the  country 
editor  said  when  he  was  rotten-egged  by  the  mob." 

It  really  seemed  that  Yale  was  out  for  the  game  at 
last,  for  they  kept  up  their  work  at  the  bat,  although 
Peck  replaced  Coulter  in  the  box  for  Harvard. 

Merriwell  had  his  turn  with  the  first  batter  up. 
One  man  was  out,  and  there  was  a  man  on  second. 
Coulter  had  warned  Peck  against  giving  Merriwell 
an  outcurve.  At  the  same  time,  knowing  Frank  had 
batted  to  right  field  before,  the  fielders  played  over 
toward  right. 

"So  you  are  on  to  that,  are  you?"  thought  Frank. 
"Well,  it  comes  full  easier  for  me  to  crack  'em  into  left 
field  if  I  am  given  an  inshoot." 

Two  strikes  were  called  on  him  before  he  found 
anything  that  suited  him.  Harris  was  on  the  point  of 
betting  Rattleton  odds  that  Merriwell  did  not  get  a 
hit,  when  Frank  found  what  he  was  looking  for  and 
sent  it  sailing  into  left.  It  was  not  a  rainbow,  so  it 


The  End  of  the  Game.  32^ 

did  not  give  the  fielder  time  to  get  under  it,  although 
he  made  a  sharp  run  for  it 

Then  it  was  that  Merriwell  seemed  to  fly  around  the 
bases,  while  the  man  ahead  of  him  came  in  and  scored. 
At  first  the  hit  had  looked  like  a  two-bagger,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  a  chance  of  making  three  out  of  it  as 
Frank  reached  second,  and  the  coachers  sent  him 
along.  He  reached  third  ahead  of  the  ball,  and  then 
the  Yale  crowd  on  the  bleachers  did  their  duty. 

"How  do  you  Harvard  chaps  like  Merriwell's  style?" 
yelled  a  Yale  enthusiast  as  the  cheering  subsided. 

Then  there  was  more  cheering,  and  the  freshmen 
of  'Umpty-eight  were  entirely  happy. 

The  man  who  followed  Frank  promptly  flied  out 
to  first,  which  quenched  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Yale 
gang  somewhat  and  gave  Harvard's  admirers  an  op- 
portunity to  make  a  noise. 

Frank  longed  to  get  in  his  score,  which  would  leave 
Harvard  with  a  lead  of  but  one.  He  felt  that  he  must 
get  home  some  way. 

Danny  Griswold  came  to  the  bat 

"Get  me  home  some  way,  Danny,"  urged  Frank. 

The  little  shortstop  said  not  a  word,  but  there  was 
determination  in  his  eyes.  He  grasped  his  stick  firmly 
and  prayed  for  one  of  his  favorite  high  balls. 

But  Peck  kept  them  low  on  Danny,  who  took  a 
strike,  and  then  was  pulled  on  a  bad  one. 


326  The  End  of  the  Game. 

With  two  strikes  on  him  and  only  one  ball,  the  case 
looked  desperate  for  Danny.  Still  he  did  not  lose  his 
nerve.  He  did  not  think  he  could  not  hit  the  ball, 
but  he  made  himself  believe  that  he  was  bound  to  hit 
it.  To  himself  he  kept  saying : 

"I'll  meet  it  next  time — I'll  meet  it  sure." 

He  knew  the  folly  of  trying  to  kill  the  ball  in  such 
a  case,  and  so  when  he  did  swing,  his  only  attempt  was 
to  meet  it  squarely.  In  this  he  succeeded,  and  he  sent 
it  over  the  second  baseman's  head,  but  it  fell  short  of 
the  fielder. 

Merriwell  came  home  while  Griswold  was  going 
down  to  first. 

And  now  it  needed  but  one  score  for  Yale  to  tie 
Harvard. 

The  man  who  followed  Griswold  dashed  all  their 
hopes  by  hitting  a  weak  one  to  short  and  forcing  Danny 
out  at  second. 

Harvard  cheered  their  men  as  they  came  in  from 
the  field. 

"We  must  make  some  scores  this  time,  boys,"  said 
rhe  Harvard  captain.  "A  margin  of  one  will  never 
do,  with  those  fellows  hitting  anything  and  every- 
thing." 

"That's  exactly  what  they  are  doing,"  said  Peck. 
"They  are  getting  hits  off  balls  they  have  no  business 
to  strike  at" 


The  End  of  the  Game.  327 

"Oh,  you  are  having  your  troubles,"  grinned  a 
friend. 

"Any  one  is  bound  to  have  when  batters  are  picking 
them  off  the  clouds  or  out  of  the  dirt.  It  doesn't 
make  much  difference  where  they  are." 

"This  man  Merriwell  can't  hold  us  down  as  he  has 
done,"  asserted  Dickson,  Harvard's  first  baseman. 

"I  don't  know;  he  is  pretty  cagey,"  admitted  Nort 
Gibson. 

"I  believe  he  is  the  best  pitcher  we'll  strike  this  sea- 
son," said  another. 

"Here,  here,  you  fellows!"  broke  in  the  captain. 
"You  are  getting  down-hearted,  and  that  won't  do. 
We've  got  this  game  and  we  are  going  to  hold  it ;  but 
we  want  to  go  in  to  clinch  it  right  here." 

They  didn't  do  much  clinching,  for  although  the 
first  man  up  hit  the  ball,  he  got  to  first  on  an  error 
by  the  third  baseman,  who  fumbled  in  trying  to  pick 
it  up. 

Blossom  was  the  third  baseman,  and  he  was  con- 
fused by  his  awkwardness,  expecting  to  get  a  call 
down. 

"Steady,  Bios,  old  boy !"  said  Frank,  gently.  "You 
are  all  right.  The  best  of  us  do  those  things  occa- 
sionally. It  is  nothing  at  all." 

THese  words  relieved  Blossom's  feelings  and  made 


328  The  End  of  the  Game. 

him  vow  that  he  would  not  let  another  ball  play  chase 
around  his  feet. 

Frank  struck  the  next  man  out,  and  held  the  runner 
on  first  while  he  was  doing  it.  The  third  man  sent  an 
easy  pop-fly  to  Blossom,  who  got  hold  of  it  and  clung 
to  it  for  dear  life. 

Then  the  runner  got  second  on  a  passed  ball,  but  he 
advanced  no  farther,  for  the  following  batter  rolled  a 
weak  one  down  to  Frank,  who  gathered  it  in  and  threw 
the  man  out  at  first. 

In  three  innings  not  a  safe  hit  had  been  made  off 
Merriwell,  and  he  had  struck  out  five  men.  No  won- 
der his  admirers  cheered  him  wildly  as  he  went  to  the 
bench. 

Yale  started  in  to  make  some  scores.  The  very  first 
man  up  got  a  hit  and  stole  second.  The  next  man 
went  to  the  bat  with  the  determination  to  slug  the  ball, 
but  Old  Put  signaled  for  a  sacrifice,  as  the  man  was  a 
good  bunt  hitter. 

The  sacrifice  was  tried,  and  it  worked,  for  the  man 
on  second  got  third,  although  the  batter  was  thrown 
out  at  first. 

"Now  we  need  a  hit !"  cried  Put.  "It  takes  one  to 
tie  and  two  to  win.  A  hit  ties  the  game." 

Rattleton  offered  to  bet  Harris  two  to  one  that  Yale 
would  win,  but  Sport  declined  the  offer. 

"It's  our  game  fast  enough,"  he  said.      "You  are 


The  End  of  the  Game.  333 

welcome  to  what  you  have  won  off  me.  I  am  satis- 
fied." 

But  the  game  was  not  won.  Amid  the  most  itv 
tense  excitement  the  next  man  fouled  out 

Then  Peck  seemed  to  gather  himself  to  save  &c 
game  for  Harvard.  He  got  some  queer  quirks  into 
his  delivery,  and,  almost  before  the  Yale  crowd  could 
realize  it,  two  strikes  were  called  on  the  batter. 

The  Yale  rooters  tried  to  rattle  Peck,  but  they  suc- 
ceeded in  rattling  the  batter  instead,  and,,  to  their  un- 
utterable dismay  and  horror,  he  fanned  at  a  third  one, 
missed  it,  and 

"Batter  is  out !"  cried  the  umpire. 

Then  a  great  roar  for  Harvard  went  up,  and  the 
dazed  freshmen  from  New  Haven  realized  they  were 
defeated  after  all. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

RATTLETON   IS   EXCITED. 

"It  wasn't  Merriwell's  fault  that  the  freshies  didn't 
win,"  said  Bob  Collingwood  to  Paul  Pierson  as  they 
were  riding  back  to  New  Haven  on  the  train  that  night 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  agreed  Pierson.  "I  was  expecting 
a  great  deal  of  Mem-well,  but  I  believe  he  is  a  better 
man  than  I  thought  he  could  be." 

"Then  you  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  he  is 
fast  enough  for  the  regular  team?" 

"I  rather  think  he  is." 

"Will  you  give  him  a  trial?" 

"We  may.  It  is  a  bad  thing  for  any  freshman  to 
get  an  exalted  opinion  of  himself  and  his  abilities,  for 
it  is  likely  to  spoil  him.  I  don't  want  to  spoil  Merri- 
well " 

"Look  here,"  interrupted  Collingwood,  impulsively. 
"I  am  inclined  to  doubt  if  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  spoi1 
that  fellow.  He  hasn't  put  on  airs  since  coming  tc 
Yale,  has  he?" 

"No." 

"Instead  of  that,  he  has  lived  rather  simply — far 
more  so  than  most  fellows  would  if  they  could  afford 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  331 

anything  better.  He  has  made  friends  with  everybody 
who  appeared  to  be  white,  no  matter  whether  their 
parents  possessed  boodle  or  were  poor." 

"That  is  one  secret  of  Merriwell's  popularity.  He 
hasn't  shown  signs  of  thinking  himself  too  good  to  be 
living." 

"Yet  I  have  it  straight  that  he  has  a  fortune  in  his 
own  right,  and  he  may  live  as  swell  as  he  likes  while  he 
is  here.  What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"It  may  be  true,"  admitted  Pierson.  "He  is  an 
original  sort  of  chap " 

"But  they  say  there  isn't  anything  small  or  mean 
about  him,"  put  in  Collingwood,  swiftly.  "He  isn't 
living  cheap  for  economy's  sake.  You  know  he  doesn't 
drink." 

"Yes.     I  have  made  inquiries  about  his  habits." 

"Still  they  say  he  opens  wine  for  his  friends  now 
and  then,  drinking  ginger  ale,  or  something  of  that 
sort,  while  they  are  surrounding  fizz,  for  which  he  set- 
tles. And  he  is  liberal  in  other  ways." 

"He  is  an  enigma  in  some  ways." 

"I  have  heard  a  wild  sort  of  story  about  him,  but  I 
don't  take  much  stock  in  it.  It  is  the  invention  of 
some  fertile  brain." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Oh,  a  lot  of  trash  about  his  having  traveled  all 
over  the  world,  been  captured  by  pirates  and  cannibals, 


332  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

fought  gorillas  and  tigers,  shot  elephants  and  so  forth. 
Of  course  that's  all  rot." 

"Of  course.     What  does  he  say  about  it?" 

"Oh,  he  simply  laughs  at  the  stories.  If  a  fellow 
asks  him  point-blank  if  they  are  true  he  tells  him  not 
to  let  anybody  string  him.  He  seems  to  regard  the 
whole  business  as  a  weak  sort  of  joke  that  some  fel- 
low is  trying  to  work." 

"Without  doubt  that's  what  it  is,  for  he's  too  young 
to  have  had  such  adventures.  Besides  that,  there's  no 
fellow  modest  enough  to  deny  it  if  he  had  had  them." 

"Of  course  there  isn't." 

In  this  way  that  point  was  settled  in  their  minds, 
for  the  time,  at  least. 

There  was  no  band  to  welcome  'Umpty-eight  back  to 
New  Haven.  No  crowd  of  cheering  freshmen  was  at 
the  station,  and  those  who  had  gone  on  to  Cambridge 
to  play  and  to  see  the  game  got  off  quietly — very 
quietly — and  hurried  to  their  rooms. 

Merriwell  was  in  his  room  ahead  of  Rattleton. 
Harry  finally  appeared,  wearing  a  sad  and  doleful 
countenance. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  man?"  asked  Frank  as 
Harry  came  in  and  flung  his  hat  on  the  floor,  after 
which  he  dropped  upon  a  chair.  "You  do  not  seem  to 
feel  well" 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  333 

"I  should  think  you  would  eel  felegant — I  mean  feel 
elegant !"  snapped  Harry,  glaring  at  Frank. 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  to  be  all  broken  up  over  a  littl- 
thing?" 

"Wow!  Little  thing!"  whooped  Harry.  "I'd  like 
to  know  what  you  call  a  little  thing — I  would,  by  jee !" 

"You  are  excited,  my  boy.     Calm  down  somewhat." 

"Oh,  I  am  calm !"  shouted  Harry  as  he  jumped  up 
and  kicked  the  chair  flying  into  a  corner.  "I  am  per- 
fectly calm !"  he  roared,  tearing  up  and  down  the  room. 
"I  never  was  calmer  in  all  my  life !" 

"You  look  it!"  came  in  an  amused  manner  from 
Frank's  lips.  "You  are  so  very  calm  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely soothing  and  restful  to  the  nerves  to  observe 


you 


Harry  stopped  short  before  Frank,  thrust  his  hands 
deep  into  his  pockets,  hunched  his  shoulders,  thrust  his 
head  forward,  and  glared  fiercely  into  Merriwell's  face. 

"There  are  times  when  it  positively  is  a  crime  not  to 
swear,"  he  hoarsely  said.  "It  seems  to  me  that  this 
is  one  of  the  times.  If  you  will  cuss  a  little  it  will  re- 
lieve my  feelings  immensely." 

"Why  don't  you  swear?"  laughed  Frank. 

"Why  don't  I?  Poly  hoker — no,  holy  poker!  I 
have  been  swearing  all  the  way  from  Cambridge  tc 
New  Haven,  and  I  have  completely  run  out  of  pro- 
ianity." 


334  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

"Well,  I  think  you  have  done  enough  for  both  of  us." 

"Oh,  indeed!  Well,  that  is  hard  of  me!  I  came 
hi  here  expecting  to  find  you  breaking  the  furniture, 
and  you  are  as  calm  and  serene  as  a  summer's  morning. 
I  tell  you,  Frank,  it  is  an  awful  shock !  And  you  are 
the  one  -who  should  do  the  most  swearing.  I  can't  un- 
derstand you,  hanged  if  I  can !" 

"Well,  you  know  there  is  an  old  saw  that  says  it  is 
useless  to  cry  over  spilled  milk " 

"Confound  your  old  saws!  Crying  and  swearing 
are  two  different  things.  Don't  you  ever  cuss,  Frank  ?" 

"Never." 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  know  how  you  can  help  it  on  an 
occasion  like  this!  That  is  what  gets  me." 

"Never  having  acquired  the  habit,  it  is  very  easy  to 
get  along  without  swearing,  which  is,  beyond  a  doubt, 
the  most  foolish  habit  a  man  can  get  into." 

Rattleton  held  up  both  hands,  with  a  look  of  abso- 
lute horror  on  his  face. 

"Don't — don't  preach  now !"  he  protested.  "I  think 
the  habit  of  swearing  is  a  blessing  sometimes — an  ab- 
solute blessing.  A  man  can  relieve  his  feelings  that 
way  when  he  can't  any  other." 

"You  don't  seem  to  have  succeeded  in  relieving  your 
feelings  much." 

"I  don't?  Well,  you  should  have  seen  me  when  I 
got  aboard  the  train!  I  was  at  high  pressure,  and 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  335 

there  was  absolute  danger  of  an  explosion.  I  just  had 
to  open  the  safety  valve  and  blow  off.  And  I  find  you 
as  calm  as  a  clock!  Oh,  Frank,  it  is  too  much — too 
much !"  and  Harry  pretended  to  weep. 

"Go  jt,  old  man,"  he  smiled.  "You  will  feel  better 
pretty  soon." 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  will  or  not!"  snapped 
Harry.  "It  was  a  sheastly  bame — I  mean  a  beastly 
shame!  That  game  was  ours!" 

"Not  quite.     It  came  very  near  being  ours." 

"It  was!  Why,  you  actually  had  it  pulled  out! 
You  held  those  fellows  down  and  never  gave  them  a 
single  safe  hit!  That  was  wonderful  work!" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  They  are  not  such  great  bat- 
ters." 

"Gordon  found  them  pretty  fast.  I  tell  you  some  of 
those  fellows  are  batters — good  ones,  too." 

"Well,  they  didn't  happen  to  get  onto  my  delivery." 

"Happen!  happen!  happen!  There  was  no  happen 
about  it.  They  couldn't  get  onto  you.  You  had 
them  at  your  mercy.  It  was  wonderful  pitching,  and 
I  can  lick  the  gun  of  a  son — er — son  of  a  gun  that  says 
it  wasn't!" 

"I  had  a  chance  to  size  every  man  up  while  Gordon 
was  pitching,  and  that  gave  me  the  advantage." 

"That  makes  me  tired !  Of  course  you  had  time  to 
size  them  up ;  but  you  couldn't  have  kept  them  without 


336  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

a  hit  if  you  hadn't  been  a  dandy  pitcher.  Your  mod- 
esty is  simply  sickening  sometimes !" 

Then  Harry  pranced  up  and  down  the  room  like  aa 
infuriated  tiger,  almost  gnashing  his  teeth  and  foaming 
at  the  mouth. 

"If  I  didn't  think  I  could  pitch  some  I  wouldn't  try 
it,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "But  I  am  not  fool  enough 
to  think  I  am  the  only  one.  There  are  others." 

"Well,  they  are  not  freshmen,  and  I'll  tell  you  that" 

"I  don't  know  about  that." 

"I  do." 

"All  right.     Have  it  as  you  like  it." 

"And  you  batted  like  a  fiend.  Twice  at  bat  and 
two  hits — a  two-bagger  and  a  three-bagger." 

"A  single  and  a  three-bagger,  if  you  please." 

"Well,  what's  the  matter  with  that?  Whee  jiz — 
I  mean  jee  whiz!  Could  anybody  ask  for  anything 
more?  You  got  the  three-bagger  just  when  it  was 
needed  most,  and  you  would  have  saved  the  game  if 
you  had  come  to  the  bat  in  the  last  inning." 

"You  think  so,  but  it  is  all  guesswork.  I  might  have 
struck  out." 

"You  might,  but  you  wouldn't.  Oh,  merry  thun- 
der !  To  think  that  a  little  single  would  have  tied  that 
game,  and  we  couldn't  get  it!  It  actually  makes  me 
ill  at  the  pit  of  my  stomach !" 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  337 

The  expression  on  Harry's  face  seemed  to  indicate 
that  he  told  the  truth,  for  he  certainly  looked  ill. 

"Don't  take  it  to  heart  so,  my  boy,"  said  Frank. 
"The  poor  chaps  earned  that  game,  and  they  ought  t© 
have  it.  We'll  win  the  last  one  of  the  series,  and  that's 
all  we  want.  Do  you  want  to  bury  poor  old  Har- 
vard?" 

"You  can't  bury  her  so  deep  that  she  won't  crawl 
out,  and  you  know  that.  Those  fellows  are  decidedly 
soon  up  at  Cambridge,  and  Yale  does  well  to  get  all 
she  can  from  them.  You  can't  tell  what  will  happen 
next  game.  They  have  seen  you,  and  they  may  have 
a  surprise  to  spring  on  us.  If  we  pulled  this  game 
oft  the  whole  thing  would  be  settled  now." 

"Don't  think  for  a  moment  that  I  underestimate 
Harvard.  She  is  Yale's  greatest  rival  and  is  bound  to 
do  us  when  she  can. 

"We  made  a  good  bid  for  the  game  to-day,  but  it 
wasn't  our  luck  to  win,  and  so  we  may  as  well  swallow 
our  medicine  and  keep  still." 

"It  wasn't  a  case  of  luck  at  all,"  spluttered  Harry. 
"It  was  sheer  bull-headedness,  that's  what  it  was !  If 
Put  had  put  you  in  long  before  he  did  the  game  might 
have  been  saved." 

"He  didn't  like  to  pull  Gordon  out,  you  see." 

"Well,  if  he's  running  this  team  on  sentiment,  the 
sooner  he  quits  the  better  it  will  be  for  the  team." 


338  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

Frank  said  nothing,  but  he  could  not  help  feeling 
that  Harry  was  right.  Managing  a  ball  team  is  purely 
a  matter  of  business,  and  if  a  manager  is  afraid  to  hurt 
anybody's  feelings  he  is  a  poor  man  for  the  position. 

"Why  didn't  he  put  you  in  in  the  first  place?"  asked 
Harry. 

"I  don't  know.     I  suppose  he  had  reasons." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  had  reasons !  And  I  rather  think  I 
know  what  they  were.  I  am  sure  I  do." 

"What  were  they?" 

"Didn't  you  expect  to  pitch  the  game  from  the  start 
to-day  ?" 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"I  thought  so." 

Harry  nodded,  as  if  fully  satisfied  that  he  under- 
stood the  whole  matter. 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  a  bit  sharply,  "you  have  not  ex- 
plained yourself.  I  am  curious  to  know  why  I  was 
not  put  into  the  box  at  the  start." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  you  show  some  emotion,  if 
it  is  nothing  more  than  curiosity.  I  had  begtm  to 
think  you  would  not  show  as  much  as  that/' 

"Naturally  I  am  curious." 

"Do  you  know  that  Paul  Pierson,  manager  of  the 
'Varsity  team,  went  on  to  see  this  game?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  do  you  suppose  he  did  so?" 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  339 

"Oh,  he  is  acquainted  with  several  Harvard  fellows, 
and  I  presume  he  went  to  see  them  as  much  as  to  see 
the  game." 

"He  wasn't  with  any  Harvard  fellows  at  the  game." 

"Well,  what  are  you  trying  to  get  at  ?" 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Harry,  who  was  now 
speaking  with  unusual  calmness.  "You  regard  Old 
Put  as  your  friend?" 

"I  always  have." 

"But  you  think  he  didn't  use  you  just  right  to-day  ?" 

"I  will  confess  that  I  don't  like  to  be  used  to  fall  back 
on  with  the  hope  that  I  may  pull  out  a  game  somebody 
else  has  lost." 

Harry  nodded  his  satisfaction. 

"I  knew  you  would  feel  that  way,  unless  you  had 
suddenly  grown  foolish.  It's  natural  and  it's  right. 
There  is  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't  be  the  regular 
pitcher  for  our  team,  but  still  Gordon  is  regarded  as 
the  pitcher,  while  you  are  the  change  pitcher.  Frank, 
there  is  a  nigger  in  the  woodpile." 

"You  will  have  to  make  yourself  clearer  than  that." 

"Putnam  knew  that  Pierson  was  going  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  game." 

"Well?" 

"Pierson  didn't  go  on  to  see  any  Harvard  friends. 
He  couldn't  afford  the  time  just  at  this  season  with  all 
he  has  on  his  hands." 


34O  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

"Go  on." 

"Putnam  knew  Pierson  was  not  there  to  see  any 
Harvard  men." 

"Oh,  take  your  time," 

Harry  grinned.  He  was  speaking  with  such  de- 
1  liberation  that  he  did  not  once  twist  his  words  or  ex- 
pressions about,  as  he  often  did  when  excited  and  in  a 
hurry. 

"That's  why  you  wasn't  put  in  at  the  start-off,"  he 
declared 

"What  is  why?  You  will  have  to  make  the  whole 
matter  plainer  than  you  have  so  far.  It  is  hazy." 

"Putnam  did  not  want  Pierson  to  see  you  pitch." 

"He  didn't?     Why  not?" 

"Because  Pierson  was  there  for  that  very  purpose." 

"Get  out!" 

"I  know  what  I  am  talking  about.  You  have  kept 
still  about  it,  but  Pierson  himself  has  let  the  cat  out  of 
the  bag." 

"What  cat?" 

"He  has  told — confidentially,  you  know — that  he  has 
thoughts  of  giving  you  a  trial  on  the  regular  team. 
The  parties  he  told  repeated  it — confidentially,  you 
know — to  others.  It  finally  came  to  my  ears.  Old 
Put  heard  of  it.  Now,  while  Old  Put  seems  to  be  your 
friend,  he  doesn't  want  to  lose  you,  and  he  had  taken 
every  precaution  to  keep  you  in  the  background.  He 


Rattleton  is  Excited.  341 

has  made  Gordon  more  prominent,  and  he  has  not  let 
you  do  much  pitching  for  Pierson  to  see.  He  per- 
mitted you  to  go  in  to-day  because  he  was  afraid  Gor- 
don would  go  all  to  pieces,  and  he  knew  what  a  howl 
would  go  up  if  he  didn't  do  something." 

Frank  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  He  did  not 
permit  himself  to  show  any  great  amount  of  excite- 
ment, but  there  was  a  dark  look  on  his  handsome 
face  that  told  he  was  aroused.  Harry  saw  that  his 
roommate  was  stirred  up  at  last. 

"As  I  have  said,"  observed  Frank,  halting  and  speak- 
ing grimly.  "I  have  regarded  Burnham  Putnam  as 
my  friend ;  but  if  he  has  done  as  you  claim  for  the  rea- 
sons you  give  he  has  not  shown  himself  to  be  very 
friendly.  There  is  likely  to  be  an  understanding  be- 
tween us." 

Rattleton  nodded. 

"That's  right,"  he  said.  "He  may  deny  it,  but  I 
know  I  am  not  off  my  trolley.  He  didn't  want  Pier- 
san  to  see  you  work  because  he  was  afraid  you  would 
show  up  so  well  that  Pierson  would  nail  you  for  the 
regular  team," 

"And  you  think  that  is  why  I  have  been  kept  in  the 
background  so  much  since  the  season  opened  ?" 

"I  am  dead  sure  of  it." 

"Putnam  must  have  a  grudge  against  me." 

"No,  Frank ;  but  he  has  displayed  selfishness  in  the 


342  Rattleton  is  Excited. 

matter.  I  believe  he  has  considered  you  a  better  man 
than  Gordon  all  along,  and  he  wanted  you  on  the  team 
to  use  in  case  he  got  into  a  tight  corner.  That's  why 
he  didn't  want  Pierson  to  see  you  work.  He  didn't 
want  to  lose  you.  But  he  was  forced  to  use  you  to- 
day, and  you  must  have  satisfied  Pierson  that  you 
know  your  business." 

"Well,  Harry,  you  have  thrown  light  on  dark 
places.  To-morrow  I  will  have  a  little  talk  with  Put 
about  this  matter." 

"That's  right,"  grinned  Harry;  "and  Pierson  w 
liable  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you.  You'll  be  on  the 
regular  team  inside  of  a  week." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

WHAT    DITSON    WANTED. 

On  the  following  day  the  great  topic  of  conversa- 
tion for  the  class  of  'Umpty-eight  was  the  recent  ball 
game.  Wherever  the  freshmen  gathered  they  dis- 
cussed the  game  and  the  work  of  Gordon  and  Merri- 
well. 

Gordon  was  a  free-and-easy  sort  of  fellow,  and  he 
had  his  friends  and  admirers,  some  of  whom  were  set 
in  their  belief  that  he  was  far  superior  to  Merriwell  as 
a  pitcher. 

Roland  Ditson  attempted  to  argue  on  two  or  three 
occasions  in  favor  of  Gordon,  but  nobody  paid  atten- 
tion to  what  he  said,  for  it  was  known  that  he  had  tried 
by  every  possible  means  to  injure  Merriwell  and  had 
been  exposed  in  a  contemptible  piece  of  treachery,  so 
that  no  one  cared  to  be  known  as  his  friend  and  asso- 
ciate. 

Whenever  Ditson  would  approach  a  group  of  lads 
and  try  to  get  in  a  few  words  he  would  be  listened  to  in 
stony  silence  for  some  moments,  and  then  the  entire 
crowd  would  turn  and  walk  away,  without  replying  to 
his  remarks  or  speaking  to  him  at  all. 


344  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

This  would  have  driven  a  fellow  less  sensitive  than 
Ditson  to  abandon  all  hope  of  going  through  Yale.  Of 
course  it  cut  Ditson,  but  he  would  grind  his  teeth  and 
mutter : 

"Merriwell  is  to  blame  for  it  all,  curse  him !  1  won't 
let  him  triumph!  The  time  will  come  when  I'll  get 
square  with  him !  I'll  have  to  stay  here  in  order  to  get 
square,  and  stay  here  I  will,  no  matter  how  I  am 
treated." 

Since  his  duplicity  had  been  made  known  and  his 
classmates  had  turned  against  him  Ditson  had  taken  to 
grinding  in  a  fierce  manner,  and  as  a  result  he  had 
made  good  progress  in  his  studies.  He  was  deter- 
mined to  stand  ahead  of  Merriwell  in  that  line,  at  least, 
and  it  really  seemed  that  he  might  succeed,  unless 
Frank  gave  more  time  to  his  studies  and  less  to  ath- 
letics. 

This  was  not  easy  for  a  fellow  in  MerriwelFs  posi- 
tion and  with  his  ardent  love  for  all  sorts  of  manly 
sports  to  do.  He  gave  all  the  time  he  could  to  studies 
without  becoming  a  greasy  grind,  but  that  was  not  as 
much  as  he  would  have  liked. 

To  Ditson's  disappointment  and  chagrin  Merriwell 
seemed  quite  unaware  that  his  enemy  stood  ahead  of 
him  in  his  classes.  Frank  seemed  to  have  quite  for- 
gotten that  such  a  person  as  Roll  Ditson  existed. 

Ditson  was  an  outcast     The  fellow  with  whom  he 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  345 

had  roomed  had  left  him  shortly  after  his  treachery  was 
made  public,  and  he  was  forced  to  room  alone,  as  he 
could  get  no  one  to  come  in  with  him. 

Roll  did  not  mind  this  so  much,  however.  He  pre- 
tended that  he  was  far  more  exclusive  than  the  aver- 
age freshman,  and  he  tried  to  imitate  the  ways  of  the 
juniors  and  seniors,  some  of  whom  had  swell  apart- 
ments. 

Ditson's  parents  were  wealthy,  and  they  furnished 
him  with  plenty  of  loose  change,  so  that  he  could  cut 
quite  a  dash.  He  had  fancied  that  his  money  would 
buy  plenty  of  friends  for  him.  At  first,  before  his  real 
character  was  known,  he  had  picked  up  quite  a  follow- 
ing, but  he  posed  as  a  superior,  which  made  him  dis- 
liked by  the  very  ones  who  helped  him  spend  his  money. 

He  had  hoped  to  be  a  leader  at  Yale,  but,  to  his  dis- 
may, he  found  that  he  did  not  cut  much  of  a  figure 
after  all,  and  Frank  Merriwell,  a  fellow  who  never 
drank  or  smoked,  was  far  more  popular.  Then  it  was 
that  Ditson  conceived  a  plot  to  bring  Merriwell  into 
ridicule  and  at  the  same  time  to  get  in  with  the  enemies 
of  the  freshmen — the  sophomores — himself. 

At  last  he  had  learned  that  at  Yale  a  man  is  not 
judged  so  much  by  the  money  he  spends  and  the  wealth 
of  his  parents  as  by  his  own  manly  qualities. 

But  Ditson  was  a  sneak  by  nature,  and  he  could  not 
get  over  it.  If  he  started  out  to  accomplish  anything 


346  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

in  a  square  way,  he  was  likely  to  fancy  that  it  could  be 
done  with  less  trouble  in  a  crooked  manner,  and  his 
natural  instinct  would  switch  him  off  from  the  course 
he  should  have  followed. 

He  was  not  at  all  fond  of  Walter  Gordon,  but  he 
liked  him  better  than  he  did  Merriwell,  and  it  was  gall 
and  wormwood  for  him  when  he  heard  how  Merriwell 
had  replaced  Gordon  in  trie  box  at  Cambridge  and  had 
pitched  a  marvelous  game  for  three  innings. 

"Oh,  it's  just  that  fellow's  luck!"  Roll  muttered  to 
himself.  "He  seems  to  be  lucky  in  everything  he  does. 
The  next  thing  I'll  hear  is  that  he  is  going  to  pitch  on 
the  'Varsity  team." 

He  little  thought  that  this  was  true,  but  it  proved  to 
be.  That  very  day  he  heard  some  sophomores  talking 
on  the  campus,  and  he  lingered  near  enough  to  catch 
their  words. 

"Is  it  actually  true,  Parker,  that  Pierson  has  pub- 
licly stated  that  Merriwell  is  fast  enough  for  the  'Var- 
sity nine?"  asked  Tad  Horner. 

"That's  what  it  is,"  nodded  Puss  Parker,  "and  I 
don't  know  but  Pierson  is  right.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  so." 

"Rot!"  exclaimed  Evan  Hartwick,  sharply.  "I 
don't  take  stock  in  anything  of  the  sort.  Merriwell 
may  make  a  pitcher  some  day,  but  he  is  raw.  Why,  he 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  347 

would  get  his  eye  batted  out  if  he  were  to  go  up  against 
Harvard  on  the  regular  team." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that/'  said  Andy  Emery. 
"He  is  pretty  smooth  people.  Is  there  anybody  knows 
Pierson  made  such  an  observation  concerning  him?" 

"Yes,  there  is,"  answered  Parker. 

"Who  knows  it?" 

"I  do." 

"Did  you  hear  him?" 

"I  did." 

"That  settles  it." 

"Yes,  that  settles  it!"  grated  Roland  Ditson  as  he 
walked  away.  "Parker  didnlt  lie,  and  Pierson  has  inti- 
mated that  Merriwell  may  be  given  a  trial  on  the  'Var- 
sity nine.  If  he  is  given  a  trial  it  will  be  his  luck  to 
succeed.  He  must  not  be  given  a  trial.  How  can  that 
be  prevented?" 

Then  Ditson  set  himself  to  devise  some  scheme  to 
prevent  Frank  from  obtaining  a  trial  on  the  regular 
nine.  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  think  of  a  plan  that 
would  not  involve  himself  in  some  way,  and  he  felt 
that  it  must  never  be  known  that  he  had  anything  to  do 
with  such  a  plot. 

That  night  Ditson  might  have  been  seen  entering  a 
certain  saloon  in  New  Haven,  calling  one  of  the  bar- 
keepers aside,  and  holding  a  brief  whispered  conversa- 
tion with  him. 


i48  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

"Is  Professor  Kelley  in?"  asked  Roll. 

"He  is,  sir,"  replied  the  barkeeper.  "Do  you  wish 
to  see  him?" 

"Well— ahem!— yes,  if  he  is  alone." 

"I  think  he  is  alone.  I  do  not  think  any  of  his  pu- 
pils are  with  him  at  present,  sir." 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  see?"  asked  Ditson. 
"This  is  a  personal  matter — something  I  want  kept 
quiet." 

The  barkeeper  disappeared  into  a  back  room,  was 
gone  a  few  minutes,  and  then  returned  and  said : 

"The  professor  is  quite  alone.  Will  you  go  up, 
sir?" 

"Y-e-s,"  said  Roll,  glancing  around,  and  then  mo- 
tioning for  the  barkeeper  to  lead  the  way. 

He  was  taken  into  a  back  room'and  shown  a  flight  of 
stairs. 

"Knock  at  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  flight,"  in- 
structed the  barkeeper,  and  after  giving  the  man  some 
money  Ditson  went  up  the  stairs. 

"Come  in !"  called  £  harsh  voice  when  he  knocked  at 
the  door. 

Ditson  found  Kelley  sitting  with  his  feet  on  a  table, 
while  he  smoked  a  strong-smelling  cigar.  There  were 
illustrated  sporting  papers  on  the  table,  crumpled  and 
ragged. 

"Well,  young  feller,  watcher  want?"  demanded  the 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  349 

man,  without  removing  his  feet  from  the  table  or  his 
hat  from  his  head. 

Ditson  closed  the  door.  He  was  very  pale  and  some- 
what agitated. 

"Are  we  all  alone?"  he  asked,  choking  a  bit  over  the 
question. 

"Dat's  wot  we  are,"  nodded  the  professofc 

"Is  it  a  sure  thing  that  our  conversation  cannot  be 
overheard  ?" 

"Dead  sure." 

Ditson  hesitated.  He  seemed  to  find  it  difficult  to 
express  himself  just  as  he  desired. 

"Speak  right  out,  chummy,"  said  Kelley  in  a  man- 
ner intended  to  be  reassuring.  "I  rudder  finks  yer 
wants  ter  lick  some  cove,  an'  yer've  come  ter  me  ter 
put  yer  in  shape  ter  do  der  job.  Well,  you  bet  yer 
dough  I'm  der  man  ter  do  dat.  How  many  lessons 
will  yer  have?" 

"It  is  not  that  at  all,"  declared  Roll. 

"Not  dat?"  cried  Kelley  in  surprise.  "Den  wot  d^ 
youse  want?" 

"Well,  you  see,  it  is  like  this — er,  like  this,"  faltered 
Roland.  "I — I've  got  an  enemy." 

"Well,  ain't  dat  wot  I  said?" 

"But  I  don't  want  to  fight  him." 

"Oh,  I  sees !  Yer  wants  some  odder  chap  ter  do  dw 
trick?" 


350  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

"Yes,  that  is  it  But  I  want  them  to  more  than  lick 
him." 

"More  dan  lick  him  ?  W'y,  yer  don't  want  him 
killed,  does  yer?" 

"No,"  answered  Ditson,  hoarsely;  "but  I  want  his 
right  arm  broken." 

"Hey?" 

Down  came  Buster  Kelley's  feet  from  the  table, 
upon  which  his  knuckles  fell,  and  then  he  arose  from 
the  chair,  standing  in  a  crouching  position,  with  his 
hands  resting  on  the  table,  across  which  he  glared  at 
Roland  Ditson. 

"Hey?"  he  squawked.     "Just  say  dat  ag'in,  cully." 

Roll  was  startled,  and  looked  as  if  he  longed  to  take 
to  his  heels  and  get  away  as  quickly  as  possible ;  but  he 
did  not  run,  and  he  forced  himself  to  say : 

"This  is  a  case  of  business,  professor.  I  will  pay 
liberally  to  have  the  job  done  as  I  want  it." 

"An'  youse  wants  a  bloke's  arm  bruck?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  dis  is  a  quare  deal !  If  yer  wanted  his  head 
bruck  it  wouldn't  s'prise  me;  but  ter  want  his  arm 
bruck — jee !" 

"I  don't  care  if  he  gets  a  rap  on  the  head  at  the  same 
time,  but  I  don't  want  him  killed.  I  want  his  right 
arm  broken,  and  that  is  the  job  I  am  ready  to  pay  for." 

Kelley  straightened  up  somewhat,  placed  one  hand 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  351 

on  his  hip,  while  the  other  rested  on  the  table,  crossed 
his  legs,  and  regarded  Ditson  steadily  with  a  stare  that 
made  Roll  very  nervous. 

"I  might  'a'  knowed  yer  didn't  want  ter  fight  him 
yerself,"  the  professor  finally  said,  and  Ditson  did  not 
fail  to  detect  the  contempt  in  his  face  and  voice. 

"No,  I  do  not,"  declared  Ditson,  an  angry  flush 
coming  to  his  face.  "He  is  a  scrapper,  and  I  do  not 
think  I  am  his  match  in  a  brutal  fight." 

"Brutal  is  good!  An'  yer  wants  his  arm  bruck? 
Don't  propose  to  give  him  no  show  at  all,  eh  ?" 

"I  don't  care  a  continental  what  is  done  so  long  as 
he  is  fixed  as  I  ask." 

"I  s'pose  ye're  one  of  them  stujent  fellers?" 

"Yes,  I  am  a  student." 

"An'  t'other  feller  is  a  stujent?" 

"Yes." 

"Dem  fellers  is  easy." 

"Then  you  will  do  the  job  for  me,  will  you?" 

"Naw!"  snorted  Kelley.  "Not  on  yer  nacheral! 
Wot  d'yer  take  me  fer?  I  don't  do  notting  of  dat 
kind.  I've  got  a  repertation  to  sustain,  I  has." 

Ditson  looked  disappointed. 

"I  am  willing  to  pay  well  to  have  the  job  done,"  he 
sad. 

"Well,  yer  can  find  somebody  ter  do  it  fer  yer." 


^2  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

"But  I  don't  know  where  to  find  anybody,  pro- 
fessor." 

Kelley  sat  down,  relighted  his  cigar,  restored  his  feet 
to  the  table,  picked  up  a  paper,  seemed  about  to  resume 
reading,  and  then  observed: 

"Dis  is  no  infermation  bureau,  but  I  s'pose  I  might 
put  yer  onter  a  cove  dat'd  do  der  trick  fer  yer  if  yuse 
come  down  heavy  wid  der  stuff." 

"If  you  will  I  shall  be  ever  so  much  obliged." 

"Much  erbliged  don't  bu/no  whiskey.  Money  talks, 
me  boy."  7 

Ditson  reached  into  his  pocket  and  produced  some 
money. 

"I  will  give  you  five  dollars  to  tell  me  of  a  man  who 
will  do  the  job  for  me,"  he  said,  pulling  a  five-dollar 
bill  from  the  roll. 

"Make  it  ten  an'  I  goes  yer/'  said  Kelley,  promptly. 

"Done.     Here  is  your  money." 

Ditson  handed  it  over. 

"I'd  oughter  made  it  twenty,"  grumbled  the  pugilist. 
"Dis  business  is  outer  my  line  entirely,  an'  I  don't  want 
ter  be  mixed  up  in  it  at  all — see?  I  has  a  repertation 
ter  sustain,  an'  it  wouldn't  do  fer  nobody  ter  know  I 
ever  hed  anyt'ing  ter  do  wid  such  a  job  as  dis." 

"There  is  no  danger  that  anybody  will  ever  know  it," 
declared  Ditson,  impatiently.  "I  will  not  say  anything 
about  it." 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  353 

"Well,  yer  wants  ter  see  dat  yer  don't.  If  yer  do, 
I'll  hunt  yer  up  meself,  an'  I  won't  do  a  t'ing  ter  youse 
— not  a  t'ing!" 

"Save  your  threats  and  come  to  business.  I  am  im- 
patient to  get  away,  as  I  do  not  care  to  be  seen  here  by 
anybody  who  may  drop  in." 

"Don't  care  ter  be  seen  here!  I  like  dat — nit !  Bet- 
ter men  dan  youse  has  been  here,  an'  don't  yer  fergit 
dat!" 

"Oh,  I  don't  care  who  has  been  here !  You  have  the 
money.  Now  tell  me  where  I  can  find  the  man  I 
want" 

"D'yer  know  Plug  Kirby  ?" 

"No." 

"Well,  he  is  der  feller  yer  wants," 

"Where  can  I  find  him?" 

"I'll  give  yer  his  address." 

Kelley  took  a  stub  of  a  pencil  out  of  his  vest  pocket 
and  wrote  with  great  labor  on  the  margin  of  one  of  the 
papers.  This  writing  he  tore  off  and  handed  to  Dit- 
son. Then,  without  another  word,  he  once  more  re- 
stored his  feet  to  the  top  of  the  table  and  resumed 
reading  as  if  there  was  no  one  in  the  room. 

Ditson  went  out  without  a  word.  When  he  was 
gone  Kelley  looked  over  the  top  of  the  paper  toward 
the  door  and  growled : 

"Dat  feller's  no  good!     If  he'd  wanted  ter  fit  der 


3  $4  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

odder  feller  hisself  I'd  tole  him  how  ter  bruck  der 
odder  chap's  wrist,  but  he  ain't  got  der  sand  ter  fight 
a  baby.  He  makes  me  sad!  I'd  like  ter  t'ump  him  a 
soaker  on  de  jaw  meself." 

That  evening  Frank  went  out  to  call  on  some  friends 
He  was  returning  to  his  rooms  between  ten  and  eleven, 
when,  as  he  came  to  a  dark  corner,  a  man  suddenly 
stepped  out  and  said : 

"Give  us  a  light,  young  feller." 

"I  have  none,"  said  Frank,  attempting  to  pass. 

"Den  give  us  a  match,"  demanded  the  man,  block- 
ing the  road. 

"As  I  do  not  smoke  I  never  carry  matches." 

"Well,  den,  I  s'pose  I'll  have  ter  go  wit'out  er  light, 
but — you'll  take  dat!" 

Like  a  flash  the  man  struck  straight  and  hard  at  the 
youth's  face.  It  was  a  wicked  blow,  delivered  with 
marvelous  swiftness,  and  must  have  knocked  Frank 
down  if  it  had  landed. 

But  Merriwell  had  suspected  all  along  that  it  was 
not  a  light  the  man  was  after,  and  he  had  been  on  the 
watch  for  just  such  a  move  as  was  made.  For  all  of 
the  man's  swiftness  Frank  dodged,  and  the  blow  passed 
over  his  shoulder. 

When  Frank  ducked  he  also  struck  out  with  his  left, 
which  he  planted  in  the  pit  of  the  assailant's  stomach. 

It  was  a  heavy  blow,  and  for  a  moment  it  rounded 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  355 

the  man  up.  Before  the  ruffian  could  recover  he  re- 
ceived a  thump  under  the  ear  that  made  him  see  stars 
and  sent  him  sprawling. 

But  the  man  had  a  hard  head,  and  he  hastily  got 
upon  his  feet,  uttering  fierce  words.  He  expected  to 
see  the  youth  in  full  flight,  and  was  astonished  to  per- 
ceive that  Frank  had  not  taken  to  his  heels. 

With  a  snarl  of  fury  the  wretch  rushed  at  MerriwelL 

Frank  dodged  again  and  came  up  under  the  man's 
arm,  giving  him  another  heavy  blow.  Then  the  man 
turned,  and  they  sparred  for  a  moment 

"Durned  if  youse  ain't  der  liveliest  kid  I  ever  seen !" 
muttered  the  astonished  ruffian.  "Youse  kin  fight!" 

"Well,  I  can  fight  enough  to  take  care  of  myself," 
returned  the  lad,  with  something  like  a  laugh. 

Smack!  smack!  smash!  Three  blows  in  rapid  suc- 
cession caused  the  ruffian  to  reel  and  gasp.  Then  for 
a  few  moments  the  fight  was  savage  and  swift. 

It  did  not  last  long.  The  ruffian  had  been  drink- 
ing, and  Frank  soon  had  the  best  of  it.  He  ended  the 
encounter  by  striking  the  man  a  regular  knockout 
blow,  and  trie  fellow  went  down  in  a  heap. 

When  the  ruffian  recovered  he  was  astonished  to 
find  Frank  had  not  departed,  but  was  bending  over 
him. 

"How  do  you  feel  ?"  the  boy  calmly  inquired. 


356  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

"Say,  I'm  all  broke  up !"  was  the  feeble  reply.  "Are 
youse  der  feller  wot  done  me?" 

"I  presume  I  am." 

"Well,  wot  yer  waitin'  fer?" 

"To  see  how  badly  you  are  hurt.  Your  head  struck 
the  stones  with  frightful  force  when  you  fell." 

"Did  it  ?  Well,  it  feels  dat  way !  Here's  a  lump  as 
big  as  yer  fist.  But  wot  d'youse  care?" 

"I  didn't  know  but  your  skull  was  fractured." 

"Wot  difference  did  dat  make?" 

"I  didn't  want  you  to  remain  here  and  suffer  with 
a  broken  head." 

"Didn't,  eh  ?  An'  I  tried  ter  do  ye  up  widout  givin: 
yer  any  warnin'!  Dis  is  der  quarest  deal  I  ever 
struck !  I  was  tryin'  ter  knock  yer  stiff  an'  den  break 
year  arm." 

"Break  my  arm  ?" 

"Dat's  wot  I  was  here  fer." 

Frank  was  interested. 

"Then  you  were  here  on  purpose  to  meet  me?" 

"Sure,  Mike." 

"But  why  were  you  going  to  break  my  arm?" 

"  'Cause  dat's  wot  I  was  paid  ferv  me  boy." 

Frank  caught  hold  of  the  ruffian,  who  had  arisen  to 
a  sitting  posture  and  was  holding  onto  his  head. 

"Paid  for?"  cried  the  boy,  excitedly.     "Do  you  mean 


What  Ditson  Wanted.  357 

to  tell  me  that  you  were  paid  to  waylay  me  and  break 
my  arm?" 

"I  didn't  mean  ter  tell  yer  anyt'ing,  but  a  feller  wot 
kin  fight  like  you  kin  an'  den  stay  ter  see  if  a  chap 
wot  tried  ter  do  him  was  hurt — dat  kind  of  a  feller 
oughter  be  told." 

"Then  tell  me — tell  me  all  about  it,"  urged  Merri- 
well. 

"Dere  ain't  much  ter  tell.  Some  sneak  wanted  yer 
arm  broke,  an'  he  came  ter  me  ter  do  der  job.  He  paid 
me  twenty  ter  lay  fer  youse  an'  fix  yer.  I  was  hard 
up  an'  I  took  der  job,  dough  I  didn't  like  it  much.  Den 
he  put  me  onter  yer,  an'  I  follored  yer  ter  der  house 
where  youse  went  dis  evenin'.  I  watched  till  yer  comes 
out,  and  den  I  skips  roun'  ter  head  yer  off.  yere.  I 
heads  yer  an'  asks  fer  a  light.  Youse  knows  der  rest 
better  dan  wot  I  does." 

"Well,  this  is  decidedly  interesting!  So  I  have  an 
enemy  who  wants  my  arm  broken?" 

"Yes,  yer  right  arm." 

"That  would  fix  me  so  I'd  never  pitch  any  more." 

"Dat's  wot's  likely,  if  ye're  a  pitcher." 

"Would  you  know  the  person  who  hired  you  if  you 
were  to  see  him  again?" 

"Sure." 

"Did  he  give  you  his  name?" 

"Dat's  wot  he  did." 


358  What  Ditson  Wanted. 

"Ha!  That's  what  I  want!  See  here!  Tell  me 
his  name,  or  by  the  gods  of  war  I  will  see  that  you  are 
arrested  and  shoved  for  this  night's  work!" 

"An'  you  will  let  me  off  if  I  tells?" 

"Yes." 

"Swear  it." 

"I  swear  it!" 

"You  won't  make  a  complaint  agin'  me?" 

"I  will  not." 

"Well,  den,  yere's  his  card  wot  he  give  me." 

The  ruffian  fumbled  in  his  pocket  and  took  out  a 
card,  which  he  passed  to  Frank,  who  eagerly  grasped  it. 

"Here's  a  match,  me  boy,"  said  the  man.  "I  had  a 
pocketful  w'en  I  braced  yer  for  one." 

He  passed  a  match  to  Frank,  who  hastily  struck  it 
on  a  stone  and  then  held  it  so  that  he  could  read  the 
name  that  was  engraved  on  the  card  in  his  fingers. 

A  cry  of  astonishment  broke  from  Merriwell's  lips, 
and  both  card  and  match  fell  from  his  fingers  to  the 
ground. 

This  is  the  name  he  had  read  upon  the  card : 

"Mr.  Burnham  Putnam." 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

D1TSON   IS   TRAPPED. 

"It  don't  make  a  dit  of  bifference,  Frank !"  spluttered 
Harry  Rattleton.  "I  don't  care  if  you  have  got  his 
card!  That  thug  lied  like  blazes!  Putnam  may  be 
selfish — he  may  have  other  faults,  but  he  never  hired 
anybody  to  break  your  arm." 

"I  cannot  think  he  would  do  such  a  thing  myself," 
said  Frank;  "but  this  Plug  Kirby,  as  he  is  called, 
seemed  honest  and  in  earnest.  He  stands  ready  to 
identify  the  fellow  at  any  time." 

"Then  why  not  settle  it  by  bringing  him  before  Put- 
nam this  very  afternoon?  That's  the  way  to  mix  the 
fatter — I  mean  fix  the  matter." 

"It  is  a  good  idea,  Harry,  and  we  will  have  to  carry 
it  out.  I'll  need  your  assistance." 

"You  shall  have  it,  old  man." 

So  Frank  and  Harry  arranged  to  bring  Putnam  and 
his  accuser  together  that  afternoon,  it  being  the  day 
after  the  assault  on  Merriwell.  Frank  was  to  look 
out  for  Kirby  while  Harry  brought  Putnam  along  to 
the  saloon  over  which  Buster  Kelley  had  rooms. 

Frank  and  Kirby  were  there  in  advance,  and  they  sat 


360  Ditson  is  Trapped. 

down  in  a  corner,  where  they  were  not  likely  to  be  ob- 
served by  anybody  who  entered. 

Kirby's  face  was  cut  and  scarred  where  he  had  felt 
Frank's  hard  fists,  and  the  tough  looked  on  the  cool 
lad  with  genuine  respect  and  admiration. 

"I  wants  yer  ter  understan'  dat  I'd  never  gone  inter 
dat  game  if  I  hadn't  been  hard  up  an'  in  a  bad  way," 
he  said,  trying  to  apologize  for  himself.  "Tings  have 
been  runnin'  agin'  me,  an'  I've  been  on  de  rocks  fer  a, 
long  time,  an'  I  didn't  know  how  I  was  ter  make  a  haul 
any  easier  dan  by  breakin'  a  kid's  arm.  It  warn't  no 
killin'  matter  nohow,  an'  so  I  took  der  job.  I  never 
s'pected  I  was  ter  run  up  agin'  anyt'ing  like  wot  you 
are.  If  I  had,  why,  wild  hosses  wouldn't  get  me  tei 
tried  "it." 

"My  enemy  knew  enough  not  to  meet  me  himself." 

"Dat's  right,  an'  now  I  want  ter  git  square  wid  him 
fer  steerin'  me  up  agin'  anyt'ing  of  der  sort  Wot  yer 
goin'  ter  do  wid  him — break  his  neck  ?" 

"I  have  not  decided  what  I  shall  do,  but  I  shall  not 
lay  a  hand  on  him." 

"Yer  won't?" 

"No." 

"Well,  I  would  if  I  was  in  your  place.  I'd  t'ump 
der  everlastin'  stuffin'  outer  der  bloke — dat's  wot!" 

"If  it  is  the  man  whose  name  is  on  the  card  that 


Ditson  is  Trapped.  361 

was  given  you  I  shall  be  sorry  for  him,  for  I  have  al- 
ways believed  him  to  be  a  white  man." 

"An'yer'llbesorry?" 

"I  will." 

"Well,  ye're  der  funniest  cove  wot  I  ever  saw. 
Arter  ye  hed  knocked  der  wind  outer  me,  ye  stayed 
eround  ter  see  dat  I  wasn't  hurt  too  bad,  w'en  any- 
body else  would  'a'  kicked  me  inter  der  gutter  an'  left 
me.  An'  now  youse  say  dat  you'll  be  sorry  fer  der 
'feller  wot  hired  me  ter  do  yer !  I'd  like  ter  know  jes' 
how  ye're  put  up." 

"I  can't  help  being  sorry  to  know  that  a  fellow  I 
have  considered  white  and  a  friend  is  crooked  and  an 
enemy,  if  it  is  to  prove  that  way." 

"Say,  young  feller,  I  likes  you,  durn  me  ef  I  don't! 
If  you  ever  has  anyt'ing  ye  wants  done,  jes'  come  ter 
me,  an'  I'll  do  it  if  I  kin,  an'  I  won't  charge  yer  nottin'." 

"Thank  you,"  smiled  Frank;  "but  I  do  not  fancy  I 
shall  have  anything  in  your  line.  While  we  are  talk- 
ing, though,  let  me  give  you  some  advice.  Turn  over 
a  new  leaf  and  try  to  be  on  the  level.  You  will  find  it 
the  best  policy  in  the  long  run." 

"I  t'ink  ye're  right,  an'  I'm  goin'  ter  try  ter  do  it. 
I  allus  did  hate  ter  work,  but  if  I  kin  git  any  kind  of  a 
job  I'm  goin'  ter  try  it  once  more.  I  don't  know  w'y 
it  is,  but  jes'  bein'  wid  youse  makes  me  want  ter  do  der 
square  t'ing." 


362  Ditson  is  Trapped. 

Frank  might  well  have  felt  pleased  that  he  exercised 
such  an  influence  over  a  man  like  Plug  Kirby. 

The  door  opened  and  Rattleton  came  into  the  saloon, 
followed  by  Old  Put  and  Dismal  Jones. 

"Come  on,  Kirby,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "Here  is 
the  man  we  are  waiting  for." 

Putnam  had  halted  near  the  bar,  a  puzzled  look  on 
his  face,  and  Frank  heard  him  say  to  Harry : 

"What  in  the  world  did  you  drag  me  in  here  for, 
old  man?  You  know  I  am  not  drinking  anything 
now,  and " 

"As  I  told  you,"  interrupted  Harry,  grimly,  "I 
brought  you  in  to  see  a  man.  Here  he  is." 

Frank  and  the  rough  had  come  up  behind  Putnam, 
who  now  turned,  and,  with  still  greater  astonishment, 
cried : 

"What — Merriwell?  What  in  the  world  are  you 
doing  in  tHis  place?" 

"Permit  me  to  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Plug  Kirby — 
Mr.  Burnham  Putnam.  Have  you  ever  met  the  man 
before." 

Old  Put  drew  back,  staring  at  the  ruffian  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"What  in  blazes  is  this?"  he  gasped.    "Is  it  a  joke?" 

"No  joke,"  returned  Frank,  sternly.  "It  is  a  mat- 
ter of  business.  Mr.  Kirby,  have  you  ever  met  Mr. 
Putnam  before?" 


Ditson  is  Trapped.  363 

"Naw!"  cried  the  man.  "Dis  ain't  der  cove  wot 
come  ter  me  ter  do  der  job.  Dis  is  anodder  feller." 

"You  are  sure?"  demanded  Frank,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  positive  relief.  "His  name  was  on  the  card 
you  gave  me." 

"I  don't  care  if  it  was,  dis  ainlt  der  feller  wot  give 
der  card  ter  me,  not  by  a  great  big  lot." 

"Well,  I  am  glad  of  that!"  cried  Frank,  and  he 
grasped  Putnam's  hand.  "It  is  a  great  relief." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you !"  almost  shouted  Harry. 

"Well,  now,  I  want  to  know  what  all  this  is  about," 
said  Old  Put,  who  was  greatly  puzzled.  "I  am  all  at 
sea." 

Without  hesitation  Frank  explained  how  a  person 
had  hired  Plug  Kirby  to  break  "his  arm  and  what  the 
result  had  been ;  how  the  person  who  made  the  bargain 
had  given  a  card  on  which  Putnam's  name  was  en- 
graved. Frank  took  the  card  from  his  pocket  and 
Putnam  said  it  was  one  of  his  regular  visiting  cards. 

"Some  fellow  has  been  working  on  my  name  in 
order  to  hide  his  own  identity!"  cried  Put,  who  was 
greatly  angered.  "Oh,  I'd  like  to  get  hold  of  the 
skunk !" 

At  this  moment  the  door  which  led  to  the  back  room 
opened,  and  Roland  Ditson,  who  had  again  visited 
Buster  Kelley,  came  into  the  saloon.  He  started  back 


364  Ditson  is  Trapped. 

when  he  saw  the  little  group  of  students,  but  Plug 
Kirby  saw  his  face  and  hoarsely  exclaimed : 

"Dere's  der  mug  now!  Dat's  der  feller  wot  hired 
me  an'  give  me  der  card!  I'll  swear  ter  dat!" 

Seeing  there  was  no  way  out  of  it,  Roll  came  for- 
ward. He  was  rather  pale,  but  he  succeeded  in  put- 
ting on  a  front. 

"Hello,  fellows!"  he  cried.  "What  are  you  doing 
in  here?" 

Merriwell  had  him  by  the  collar  in  a  twinkling. 

"Looking  for  you,"  he  said,  "and  we  have  found 
you !  So  you  are  the  chap  who  hired  this  man  to  break 
my  arm  in  order  to  fix  me  so  I  couldn't  pitch  any 
more !  Well,  I  declare  I  didn't  think  anything  quite  as 
low  as  that  even  of  you !" 

Ditson  protested  his  innocence.  He  even  called 
Kirby  a  liar,  and  Frank  was  forced  to  keep  the  ruffian 
from  hammering  him.  He  swore  it  was  some  kind  of. 
a  plot  to  injure  him,  and  he  called  on  the  boys  to  know 
if  they  would  take  the  word  of  a  wretch  like  Kirby  in 
preference  to  his. 

"Oh,  get  out!"  exclaimed  Putnam  in  disgust. 
"Take  my  advice  and  leave  Yale  at  once.  If  you  do 
not,  I'll  publish  the  whole  story,  and  you  will  find  your- 
self run  out.  Go!" 

Ditson  sneaked  away. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 
"PLAY  BALL!" 

Before  night  Merriwell  received  an  appealing  letter 
from  Ditson,  in  which  the  young  scapegrace  protested 
his  sorrow  and  entreated  Frank  to  do  what  he  could 
to  keep  the  matter  quiet,  so  he  would  not  be  forced  to 
leave  Yale. 

Ditson  declared  it  would  break  his  mother's  heart 
if  he  failed  to  complete  his  course  at  Yale.  Over  and 
over  he  entreated  forgiveness,  telling  how  sorry  he  was 
that  he  had  ever  tried  to  injure  Merriwell  in  any  way, 
and  declaring  that,  if  Frank  would  forgive  and  forget, 
he  would  never  cause  him  any  further  trouble. 

Frank  pondered  over  the  letter  so  long,  and  with 
such  a  serious  look  on  his  face,  that  Harry  asked  him 
what  he  had  struck.  Then  Merriwell  read  it  to  his 
roommate. 

"Oh,  what  a  snizerable  meak — I  mean  miserable 
sneak,  that  fellow  is!"  exclaimed  Harry.  "He  goes 
into  a  dirty  piece  of  business  like  this,  and  then  he  gets 
down  and  crawls — actually  crawls !" 

"I  have  no  doubt  but  his  mother  is  proud  of  him," 
said  Frank.  "He  says  he  is  an  only  son.  It  is  his 


366  "Play  Ball !" 

mother,  not  Ditson,  I  am  thinking  about.  I  do  not 
wish  to  cause  her  so  much  pain." 

"Oh,  come  off!  If  a  fellow  is  such  a  snake  as  Dit- 
son, he  must  get  it  from  his  parents  on  one  side  or 
the  other.  Perhaps  his  mother  is  not  so  good." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  think  that  of  any  fellow's  mother. 
I  much  prefer  to  think  that  he  takes  all  his  bad  quali- 
ties from  the  other  side  of  the  house.  I  remember 
my  own  mother — the  dearest,  gentlest,  sweetest  woman 
in  all  the  world!  How  she  loved  me!  How  proud 
she  was  of  me !  All  the  better  part  of  my  nature  I  owe 
to  her,  God  bless  tier!" 

Frank  spoke  with  deep  feeling,  and  Rattleton  was 
touched  and  silenced.  Merriwell  arose  and  walked 
the  floor,  and  there  was  an  expression  of  the  utmost 
tenderness  and  adoration  on  his  face — a  look  that 
brought  something  like  a  mist  to  Harry's  eyes.  Frank 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  his  companion,  and  he  gently 
murmured : 

"My  angel  mother!" 

That  was  too  much  for  Harry,  and  he  coughed  hus- 
kily, in  an  attempt  to  break  the  spell  without  being 
rude.  Frank  immediately  turned,  and  said : 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  old  man.  I  forgot  myself,  for 
a  moment." 

"Oh,  don't  pard  my  begoner — that  is,  begon  my 


"Play  Ball!"  367 

pard — no,  I  mean  peg  my  bardon !  Hang  it  all !  I'm 
all  twisted !  I  don't  know  what  I  am  trying  to  say !" 

In  confusion  Harry  got  up  and  went  to  look  out  of 
the  window. 

"Jeewhittaker !  I'm  glad  Merry  don't  get  this  way 
often!"  he  thought.  "Never  knew  him  to  do  it  be- 
fore." 

After  some  moments  Frank  declared : 

"I  am  going  to  try  to  hush  this  Ditson  matter  up, 
Harry." 

"You  are?" 

"Yes,  for  the  sake  of  Ditson's  mother.  I  want  you 
to  help  me.  We'll  go  see  Putnam  and  Jones.  If  they 
have  told  anybody,  we'll  see  the  others.  I  am  the  one 
who  has  the  greatest  cause  for  complaint,  and  if  I  am 
willing  to  drop  it,  I  am  sure  Putnam  should  be.  Come 
on,  old  man.  Let's  not  lose  any  time." 

"Well,  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  admitted  Harry,  as 
he  reached  for  his  cap.  "But  there's  not  another  per- 
son on  top  of  the  earth  who  could  induce  me  to  keep 
still  in  such  a  case.  It  is  a  second  offense,  too." 

So  they  went  out  together,  and  searched  for  Putnam 
and  Jones. 

At  first  Putnam  was  obstinate,  and  utterly  refused 
to  let  Ditson  off;  but  Frank  took  him  aside,  and  talked 
earnestly  to  him  for  fifteen  minutes,  finally  securing 
his  promise  to  keep  silent.  It  was  not  difficult  to 


J68  "Play  Ball  !fl 

silence  Jones,  and  so  the  matter  was  hushed  up  for 
the  time.  Nothing  was  said  to  Ditson,  who  was  left 
in  suspense  as  to  what  course  would  be  pursued. 

A  day  or  two  later  came  the  very  thing1  that  had 
been  anticipated  and  discussed,  since  the  freshman 
game  at  Cambridge.  Merriwell  was  selected  as  one 
of  the  pitchers  on  the  'Varsity  nine,  and  the  freshmen 
lost  him  from  their  team. 

Putnam  came  out  frankly  and  confessed  that  he  had 
feared  something  of  the  kind,  all  along,  and  Frank 
was  in  no  mood  to  kick  over  his  past  treatment,  so 
nothing  was  said  on  that  point. 

In  the  first  game  against  a  weaker  team  than  Har- 
vard, Merriwell  was  tried  in  the  box  and  pitched  a 
superb  game,  which  Yale  won  in  a  walk. 

Big  Hugh  Heffiner,  the  regular  pitcher,  whose  arm 
was  in  a  bad  way,  complimented  Merriwell  on  his 
work,  which  he  said  was  "simply  great." 

Of  course  Frank  felt  well,  as  for  him  there  was  no 
sport  he  admired  so  much  as  baseball ;  but  he  remained 
the  same  old  Merriwell,  and  his  freshmen  comrades 
could  not  see  the  least  change  in  his  manner. 

The  second  game  of  the  series  with  Harvard  came 
off  within  a  week,  but  Frank  got  cold  in  his  arm,  and 
he  was  not  in  the  best  possible  condition  to  go  into  the 
box.  This  he  told  Pierson,  and  as  Heffiner  had  almost 
entirely  recovered,  Frank  was  left  on  the  bench. 


"Play  Ball  I"  369 

The  'Varsity  team  had  another  pitcher,  who  was 
known  as  Dad  Hicks.  He  was  a  man  about  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  and  looked  even  older,  hence  the  nick- 
name of  Dad. 

This  man  was  most  erratic  and  could  not  be  relied 
upon.  Sometimes  he  would  do  brilliant  work,  and  at 
other  time  children  could  have  batted  him  all  over  the 
lot.  He  was  used  only  in  desperate  emergencies,  and 
could  not  be  counted  on  in  a  pinch. 

During  the  whole  of  the  second  game  with  Harvard 
Frank  sat  on  the  bench,  ready  to  go  into  the  box  if 
called  on.  At  first  it  looked  as  if  he  would  have  to  go 
in,  for  the  Harvard  boys  fell  upon  Heffiner  and 
pounded  him  severely  for  two  innings.  Then  Hugh 
braced  up  and  pitched  the  game  through  to  the  end  in 
brilliant  style,  Yale  winning  by  a  score  of  ten  to  seven. 

Heffiner,  however,  was  forced  to  bathe  his  arm  in 
witch  hazel  frequently,  and  as  he  went  toward  the  box 
for  the  last  time  he  said  to  Frank  with  a  rueful  smile : 

"You'll  have  to  get  into  shape  to  pitch  the  last  game 
of  the  series  with  these  chaps.  My  arm  is  the  same 
as  gone  now,  and  I'll  finish  it  this  inning.  We  must 
win  this  game  anyway,  regardless  of  arms,  so  here 
goes." 

He  could  barely  get  the  balls  over  the  plate,  but  he 
used  his  head  in  a  wonderful  manner,  and  the  slow 
ball  proved  a  complete  puzzle  for  Harvard  after  they 


370  "Play  Ball !" 

had  been  batting  speed  all  through  the  game,  so  the) 
got  but  one  safe  hit  off  Heffiner  that  inning  and  no 
scores. 

There  was  a  wild  jubilee  at  Yale  that  night  A  bon- 
fire was  built  on  the  campus,  and  the  students  ble* 
horns,  sang  songs,  cheered  for  "good  old  Yale,"  anc 
had  a  real  lively  time. 

One  or  two  of  the  envious  ones  asked  about  Merri- 
well — why  he  was  not  allowed  to  pitch.  Even  Hart- 
wick,  a  sophomore  who  had  disliked  Frank  from  the 
first,  more  than  hinted  that  the  freshman  pitcher  was 
being  made  sport  of,  and  that  he  would  not  be  allowed 
to  go  into  the  box  when  Yale  was  playing  a  team  of 
any  consequence. 

Jack  Diamond  overheard  the  remark,  and  he 
promptly  offered  to  bet  Hartwick  any  sum  that  Merri- 
well  would  pitch  the  next  game  against  Harvard. 

Diamond  was  a  freshman,  and  so  he  received  a  call- 
ing down  from  Hartwick,  who  told  him  he  was  alto- 
gether too  new.  But  as  Hartwick  strolled  away,  Dia- 
mond quietly  said : 

"I  may  be  new,  sir,  but  I  back  up  any  talk  I  make. 
There  are  others  who  do  not,  sir." 

Hartwick  made  no  reply. 

As  the  third  and  final  game  of  the  series  was  to  be 
played  on  neutral  ground,  there  had  been  some  disa- 


"Play  Ball!"  371 

greement  about  the  location,  but  Springfield  had  finally 
been  decided  upon,  and  accepted  by  Yale  and  Harvard. 

Frank  did  his  best  to  keep  his  arm  in  good  condition 
for  that  game,  something  which   Pierson  approved.     : 
Hicks  was  used  as  much  as  possible  in  all  other  games, 
but  Frank  found  it  necessary  to  pull  one  or  two  off  the 
coals  for  him. 

Hemner  had  indeed  used  his  arm  up  in  the  grand 
struggle  to  win  the  second  game  from  Harvard — the 
game  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  Yale  to  se- 
cure. He  tended  that  arm  as  if  it  were  a  baby,  but  it 
had  been  strained  severely  and  it  came  into  shape  very 
slowly.  As  soon  as  possible  he  tried  to  do  a  little 
throwing  every  day,  but  it  was  some  time  before  he 
could  get  a  ball  more  than  ten  or  fifteen  feet. 

It  became  generally  known  that  Merriwell  would 
have  to  pitch  at  Springfield,  beyond  a  doubt,  and  the 
greatest  anxiety  was  felt  at  Yale.  Every  man  had 
confidence  in  Heffiner,  but  it  was  believed  by  the  ma- 
jority that  the  freshman  was  still  raw,  and  therefore 
was  liable  to  make  a  wretched  fizzle  of  it. 

Heffiner  did  not  think  ao.  He  coached  Merriwell 
almost  every  day,  and  his  confidence  in  Frank  in- 
creased. 

"The  boy  is  all  right/'  was  all  he  would  say  about 
it,  but  that  did  not  satisfy  the  anxious  ones. 


372  "Play  Ball  I" 

During  the  week  before  the  deciding  game  was  to 
come  off  Heffiner's  arm  improved  more  rapidly  than  it 
had  at  any  time  before,  and  scores  of  men  urged  Pier- 
son  to  put  Old  Reliable,  as  Hugh  was  sometimes  called, 
into  the  box. 

A  big  crowd  went  up  to  Springfield  on  the  day  of 
the  great  game,  but  the  "sons  of  Old  Eli"  were  far 
from  confident,  although  they  were  determined  to  root 
for  their  team  to  the  last  gasp. 

The  most  disquieting  rumors  had  been  afloat  con- 
cerning Harvard.  It  was  said  her  team  was  in  a  third 
better  condition  than  at  the  opening  of  the  season, 
when  she  took  the  first  game  from  Yale;  and  it  could 
not  be  claimed  with  honesty  that  the  Yale  team  was 
apparently  in  any  better  shape.  Although  she  had 
won  the  second  game  of  the  series  with  Harvard,  her 
progress  had  not  been  satisfactory. 

A  monster  crowd  had  gathered  to  witness  the  de- 
ciding game.  Blue  and  crimson  were  the  prevailing 
colors.  On  the  bleachers  at  one  side  of  the  grand- 
stand sat  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  Harvard  men, 
cheering  all  together  and  being  answered  by  the  hun- 
dreds of  Yale  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  grand  stand. 
There  were  plenty  of  ladies  and  citizens  present  and 
the  scene  was  inspiring.  A  band  of  music  served  to 


"Play  Ball  I"  373 

quicken  the  blood  in  the  veins  which  were  already 
throbbing. 

There  was  short  preliminary  practice,  and  then  at 
exactly  three  o'clock  the  umpire  walked  down  behind 
the  home  plate  and  called:  "Hay  bail!" 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

A    HOT    FINISH. 

Yale  took  the  field,  and  as  the  boys  in  blue  trotted 
out,  the  familiar  Yale  yell  broke  from  hundreds  of 
throats.  Blue  pennants  were  wildly  fluttering,  the 
band  was  playing  a  lively  air,  and  for  the  moment  it 
seemed  as  if  the  sympathy  of  the  majority  of  the  spec- 
tators was  with  Yale. 

But  when  Hinkley,  Harvard's  great  single  hitter, 
who  always  headed  the  batting  list,  walked  out  with 
his  pet  "wagon  tongue, "  a  different  sound  swept  over 
the  multitude,  and  the  air  seemed  filled  with  crimson 
pennants. 

Merriwell  went  into  the  box,  and  the  umpire  broke 
open  a  pasteboard  box,  brought  out  a  ball  that  was 
wrapped  in  tin  foil,  removed  the  covering,  and  tossed 
the  snowy  sphere  to  the  freshman  pitcher  Yale  had  so 
audaciously  stacked  up  against  Harvard. 

Frank  looked  the  box  over,  examined  the  rubber 
plate,  and  seemed  to  make  himself  familiar  with  ever} 
inch  of  the  grotmd  in  his  vicinity.  Then  he  facec 
Hinkley,  and  a  moment  later  delivered  the  first  ball 

Hinklejf  smashed  it  on  the  nose,  and  k  was  post 


A  Hot  Finish.  375 

Merriwell  in  a  second,  skipping  along  the  ground  and 
passing  over  second  base  just  beyond  the  baseman's 
reach,  although  he  made  a  good  run  for  it. 

The  center  fielder  secured  the  ball  and  returned  it  to 
second,  but  Hinkley  had  made  a  safe  single  off  the 
very  first  ball  delivered. 

Harvard  roared,  while  the  Yale  crowd  was  silent. 

A  great  mob  of  freshmen  was  up  from  New  Haven 
to  see  the  game  and  watch  Merriwell's  work,  and 
some  of  them  immediately  expressed  'disappointment 
and  dismay. 

"Here  is  where  Merriwell  meets  his  Waterloo,"  said 
Sport  Harris.  "He'll  be  batted  out  before  the  game 
is  fairly  begun." 

That  was  quite  enough  to  arouse  Rattleton,  who 
heard  the  remark. 

"I'll  bet  you  ten  dollars  he  isn't  batted  out  at  all,"' 
spluttered  Harry,  fiercely.  "Here's  my  money,  too!" 

"Make  it  twenty-five  and  I  will  go  you,"  drawled 
Harris. 

"All  right,  I'll  make  it  twenty-five." 

The  money  was  staked. 

Derry,  also  a  heavy  hitter,  was  second  on  Harvard's 
list.  Derry  had  a  bat  that  was  as  long  and  as  large 
as  the  regulations  would  permit,  and  as  heavy  as  lead ; 
yet,  despite  the  weight  of  the  stick,  the  strapping  Vcr- 
tnonter  handled  it  as  if  it  were  a  feather. 


376  A  Hot  Finish. 

Frank  sent  up  a  coaxer,  but  Derry  refused  to  be 
coaxed.  The  second  ball  was  high,  but  Derry  cracked 
it  for  two  bags,  and  Hinkley  got  around  to  third. 

It  began  to  seem  as  if  Merriwell  would  be  batted  out 
in  the  first  inning,  and  the  Yale  crowd  looked  weary 
and  disgusted  at  the  start. 

The  next  batter  fouled  out,  however,  and  the  next 
one  sent  a  red-hot  liner  directly  at  Merriwell.  There 
was  no  time  to  get  out  of  the  way,  so  Frank  caught 
it,  snapped  the  ball  to  third,  found  Hinkley  off  the  bag, 
and  retired  the  side  without  a  score. 

This  termination  of  the  first  half  of  the  inning  was 
so  swift  and  unexpected  that  it  took  some  seconds  for 
the  spectators  to  realize  what  had  happened.  When 
they  did,  however,  Yale  was  wildly  cheered. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it  now,  Harris?"  de- 
manded Harry,  exultantly. 

"I  think  Merriwell  saved  his  neck  by  a  dead  lucky 
catch,"  was  the  answer.  "If  he  had  missed  that  ball 
he  would  have  been  removed  within  five  minutes." 

Pierson,  who  was  sitting  on  the  bench,  was  looking 
doubtful,  and  he  held  a  consultation  with  Costigan, 
captain  of  the  team,  as  soon  as  the  latter  came  in  from 
third  base. 

Costigan  asked  Frank  how  he  felt,  and  Merriwell 
replied  that  he  had  never  felt  better  in  his  life,  so  it 


A  Hot  Finish.  377 

was  decided  to  let  him  see  what  he  could  do  in  the  box 
the  next  inning. 

Yedding,  who  was  in  the  box  for  Harvard,  could 
not  have  been  in  better  condition,  and  the  first  three 
Yale  men  to  face  him  went  out  in  one-two-three  order, 
making  the  first  inning  a  whitewash  for  both  sides. 

As  Merriwell  went  into  the  box  the  second  time 
there  were  cries  for  Heffiner,  who  was  on  the  bench, 
ready  to  pitch  if  forced  to  do  so,  for  all  of  the  fact  that 
it  might  ruin  his  arm  forever,  so  far  as  ball  playing 
was  concerned. 

In  trying  to  deceive  the  first  man  up  Merriwell  gave 
him  three  balls  in  succession.  Then  he  was  forced  to 
put  them  over.  He  knew  the  batter  would  take  one  or 
two,  and  so  he  sent  two  straight,  swift  ones  directly 
over,  and  two  strikes  were  called. 

Then  came  the  critical  moment,  for  the  next  ball 
pitched  would  settle  the  matter.  Frank  sent  in  a  rise 
and  the  batter  struck  at  it,  missed  it,  and  was  declared 
out,  the  ball  having  landed  with  a  "plunk"  in  the  hands 
of  the  catcher. 

The  next  batter  got  first  on  a  single,  but  the  third 
man  sent  an  easy  one  to  Frank,  who  gathered  it  in, 
threw  the  runner  out  at  second,  and  the  second  base- 
man sent  the  ball  to  first  in  time  to  retire  the  side  on  a 
double  play. 

"You  are  all  right,  Merriwell,  old  man,"  enthusias- 


378  A  Hot  Finish. 

tically  declared  Heffiner,  as  Frank  came  in  to  the 
bench.  "They  haven't  been  able  to  score  off  you  yet, 
and  they  won't  be  able  to  touch  you  at  all  after  you  get 
into  gear." 

Pierson  was  relieved,  and  Costigan  looked  well  sat- 
isfied. 

"Now  we  must  have  some  scores,  boys,"  said  the 
captain. 

But  Yedding  showed  that  he  was  out  for  blood,  for 
he  allowed  but  one  safe  hit,  and  again  retired  Yale 
without  a  score. 

Surely  it  was  a  hot  game,  and  excitement  was  run- 
ning high.  Would  Harvard  be  able  to  score  the  next 
time?  That  was  the  question  everybody  was  asking. 

Yedding  came  to  the  bat  in  this  inning,  and  Merri- 
well  struck  him  out  with  ease,  while  not  another  man 
got  a  safe  hit,  although  one  got  first  on  the  shortstop's 
error. 

The  Yale  crowd  cheered  like  Indians  when  Harvard 
was  shut  out  for  the  third  time,  the  freshmen  seeming 
to  yell  louder  than  all  the  others.  They  originated  a 
cry  which  was  like  this : 

"He  is  doing  very  well!   Who?  Why,  Merriwell!" 

Merriwell  was  the  first  man  up,  and  Yedding  did  his 
best  to  get  square  by  striking  the  freshman  out.  In 
this  he  was  successful,  much  to  his  satisfaction. 


A  Hot  Finish.  379 

But  no  man  got  a  hit,  and  the  third  inning  ended  as 
had  the  others,  neither  side  having  made  a  run. 

The  fourth  opened  in  breathless  suspense,  but  it  was 
quickly  over,  neither  side  getting  a  man  beyond  second. 

It  did  not  seem  possible  that  this  thing  could  con- 
tinue much  longer,  but  the  fifth  inning  brought  the 
same  result,  although  Yale  succeeded  in  getting  a  man 
to  third  with  only  one  out.  An  attempt  to  sacrifice 
him  home  failed,  and  a  double  play  was  made,  retiring 
the  side. 

Harvard  opened  the  sixth  by  batting  a  ball  straight 
at  Yale's  shortstop,  who  played  tag  with  it,  chasing  it 
around  his  feet  long  enough  to  allow  the  batter  to 
reach  first.  It  was  not  a  hit,  but  an  error  for  short 

This  seemed  to  break  the  Yale  team  up  somewhat. 
The  runner  tried  for  second  on  the  first  ball  pitched, 
and  Yale's  catcher  overthrew,  although  he  had  plenty 
of  time  to  catch  the  man.  The  runner  kept  on  to  third 
and  got  it  on  a  slide. 

Now  Harvard  rejoiced.  Although  he  had  not  ob- 
tained a  hit,  the  man  had  reached  third  on  two  errors, 
and  there  was  every  prospect  of  scoring. 

Merriwell  did  not  seem  to  lose  his  temper  or  his 
coolness.  He  took  plenty  of  time  to  let  everybody  get 
quieted  down,  and  then  he  quickly  struck  out  the  next 
man.  The  third  man,  however,  managed  to  hit  the 
ball  fairly  and  knocked  a  fly  into  left  field.  It  was 


}8o  A  Hot  Finish. 

gathered  in  easily,  but  the  man  on  third  held  the  bag 
till  the  fly  was  caught  and  made  a  desperate  dash  for 
home. 

The  left  fielder  threw  well,  and  the  ball  struck  in  the 
catcher's  mitt.  It  did  not  stick,  however,  and  the 
catcher  lost  the  only  opportunity  to  stop  the  score. 

Harvard  had  scored  at  last! 

The  Harvard  cheer  rent  the  air,  and  crimson  flut- 
tered on  all  sides. 

Frank  struck  out  the  next  man,  and  then  Yale  came 
to  bat,  resolved  to  do  or  die.  But  they  did  not  do 
much.  Yedding  was  as  good  as  ever,  and  the  fielders 
gathered  in  anything  that  came  their  way. 

At  the  end  of  the  eighth  inning  the  score  remained 
one  to  nothing  in  Harvard's  favor.  It  looked  as  if 
Yale  would  receive  a  shut  out,  and  that  was  something 
awful  to  contemplate.  The  "sons  of  Old  Eli"  were 
ready  to  do  anything  to  win  a  score  or  two. 

In  the  first  half  of  the  ninth  Harvard  went  at  it  to 
make  some  more  runs.  One  man  got  a  hit,  stole  sec- 
ond, and  went  to  third  on  an  error  that  allowed  the 
batter  to  reach  first 

Sport  Harris  had  been  disappointed  when  Merriwell 
continued  to  remain  in  the  box,  but  now  he  said : 

"He's  rattled.     Here's  where  they  kill  him." 

But  Frank  proved  that  he  was  not  rattled.  He 
tricked  the  man  on  third  into  getting  off  the  bag  and 


A  Hot  Finish.  381 

then  threw  him  out  in  a  way  that  brought  a  yell  of  de- 
light from  Yale  men.  That  fixed  it  so  the  next  batter 
eould  not  sacrifice  with  the  object  of  letting  the  man 
on  third  home.  Then  he  got  down  to  business,  and 
Harvard  was  whitewashed  for  the  last  time. 

"Oh,  if  Yale  can  score  now !"  muttered  hundreds. 

The  first  man  up  flied  out  to  center,  and  the  next 
man  was  thrown  out  at  first  That  seemed  to  settle  it. 
The  spectators  were  making  preparations  to  leave.. 
The  Yale  bat-tender,  with  his  face  long  and  doleful,, 
was  gathering  up  the  sticks. 

What's  that?  The  next  man  got  a  safe  hit,  a  single 
that  placed  him  on  first.  Then  Frank  Merriwell  was 
seen  carefully  selecting  a  bat. 

"Oh,  if  he  were  a  heavy  hitter!"  groaned  many 
voices. 

Yedding  was  confident — much  too  confident.  He 
laughed  in  Frank's  face.  He  did  not  think  it  neces- 
sary to  watch  the  man  on  first  closely,  and  so  that  man 
found  an  opportunity  to  steal  second. 

Two  strikes  and  two  balls  had  been  called.  Then 
Yedding  sent  in  a  swift  one  to  cut  the  inside  corner. 
Merriwell  swung  at  it. 

Crack !  Bat  and  ball  met  fairly,  and  away  sailed  the 
sphere  over  the  head  of  the  shortstop. 

"Run!" 

That  word  was  a  roar.     No  need  to  tell  Frank  to 


382  A  Hot  Finish. 

run.  In  a  moment  he  was  scudding  down  to  first, 
while  the  left  fielder  was  going  back  for  the  ball  which 
had  passed  beyond  his  reach.  Frank  kept  on  for  sec- 
ond. There  was  so  much  noise  he  could  not  hear  the 
coachers,  but  he  saw  the  fielder  had  not  secured  the 
ball.  He  made  third,  and  the  excited  coacher  sent 
him  home  with  a  furious  gesture. 

Every  man,  woman  and  child  was  standing.  It 
seemed  as  if  every  one  was  shouting  and  waving  flags, 
hats,  or  handkerchiefs.  It  was  a  moment  of  such 
thrilling,  nerve-tingling  excitement  as  is  seldom  expe- 
rienced. If  Merriwell  reached  home  Yale  won;  if  he 
failed,  the  score  was  tied,  for  the  man  in  advance  had 
scored. 

The  fielder  had  secured  the  ball,  he  drove  it  to  the 
shortstop,  and  shortstop  whirled  and  sent  it  whistling 
home.     The  catcher  was  ready  to  stop  Merriwell. 
,    "Slide!" 

That  word  Frank  heard  above  all  the  commotion. 
He  did  slide.  Forward  he  scooted  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 
The  catcher  got  the  ball  and  put  it  onto  Frank — an  in- 
stant too  late! 

A  sudden  silence, 

"Safe  home!"  rang  the  voice  of  the  umpire. 

Then  another  roar,  louder,  wilder,  full  of  unbounded 
joy !  The  Yale  cheer !  The  band  drowned  by  all  the 
uproar!  The  sight  of  sturdy  lads  in  blue,  delirious 


A  Hot  Finish.  383 

with  delight,  hugging  a  dust-covered  youth,  lifting  him 
to  their  shoulders,  and  bearing  him  away  in  triumph. 
Merriwell  had  won  his  own  game,  and  his  record  was 
made.  It  was  a  glorious  finish! 

"Never  saw  anything  better,"  declared  Harry. 
"Frank,  you  are  a  wonder!" 

"He  is  that!"  declared  several  others.  "Old  Yale 
can't  get  along  without  him." 

THE   END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
for  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
6y  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  PhUadelphia 

(i) 


THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

Donald  Grayson's  Famous 
Motor  Stories  for  Boys  & 

Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures  with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
cycles,  automobiles,  aeroplanes  and  submarines. 

You  may  readily  see  what  a  vast  field  for  adventures 
Mr.  Grayson  has  chosen. 

Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 
BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 
BOB  STEELE   FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 
BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 
BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 
BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 
BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 
BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 
BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 
BOB  STEELE'S  LAST  FLIGHT 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 
The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 

boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 

patriotic  enthusiasm. 
We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.     Read  the  first  and 

you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.     I2mo'.     Cloth,  handsomely 

bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieu:.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.     By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.     By  Lieut.  Lountberry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"  OLD  PUT  "  THE  PATRIOT.     By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.     By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.     By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  i8ia.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkiss. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.     By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydon. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  -what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  is  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  honesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse,  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE  BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 

Lionel  Lounnberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING  IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.    By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

STANLEY  NORRIS          BY       VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  peep  "  behind  the  scenes  "  of  the  great  white  canvas  ?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL   THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST    RING.     By 

Stanley  Morris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,  or  AN  UNKNOWN    RIDER  IN  THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.    By  Victor 

st.  ciair.        price>  50  eents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  .toryof  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS  FORTUNE.— An  extremely  interesting  story  of  a  $»co,ooo 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR.— Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions  ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.    By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN    SEARCH    OF   AN    UNKNOWN    RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 

By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orton. 
The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of     submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


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